I’m not even going to bother writing a joke about this link. I’m tired, and it’s really not necessary.

Xianz.com: It’s not MySpace… It’s HIS Space!

The Christian MySpace alternative, Xianz offers “Friends,” “Faith” and “Fellowship” (remember, that was the word we used to use for “community”).

The worst part of the whole thing is that you just know I’m going to be spending a sizable proportion of my evening surfing Xian profiles (Like Samizer: “YAY FOR CHRIST!!! *I love to laugh!*” and MaineMissy33, whose profile proves that joining Xianz will result in a neuron-destroying number of glitter GIFs posted in your testimonials).

This site makes me sad, though, mostly because it reminds me of how disappointed I was the day I found out that the truncation “xian” had been adopted by the hordes of True-Love-Waiting, abortion-clinic-picketing, Relevant-reading*, neo-conservative mainstream Christian youth.

*NB to those reading this who do, in fact, read Relevant: I wasn’t talking about you. If you’re reading this then you’re too cool for Relevant.

technorati tags: xianz, relevant magazine, christianity, religion

After a three-week break I went back to small group (aka “Smallies” or “Alone Together: The People Love Forgot,” the latter an in-joke I’ll be happy to explain at a later date).

Having finished a study of Randy Alcorn’s The Treasure Principle (a book I hated, for which I promised a commentary, which is hopefully forthcoming), we’ve moved on to other studies.

I thought Alcorn was bad.

I want it to be known that I appreciate all the work our group leader puts into our meetings. I really, really, do. But last week’s study was seriously lacking and I immediately wanted to blog about how I disliked it and exactly why I disliked it. But then I thought, “Bitch, if you’re going to the trouble of writing out a snarky critique for your blog you should get your ass to write a thoughtful critique to provide to the leader, who puts so much work into these things. Also, you shouldn’t talk shit on the internet.”

So I compromised. Here is the text of the missive, which I might probably will will send to the leader. With some bracketed comments for your eyes only. (And by “your” I mean “the entire internet’s.”)

I wanted to give you some feedback on the Bible study we did this week. You might have gathered that I didn’t find it particularly engaging [My lolling about discussing Battlestar Galactica while the rest of my group was dutifully noting their answers on their homework-like sheets was probably the first indication], but I wanted to outline why.

All of the following is my perspective; I realize that not all of our group will share it and I don’t pretend these opinions are anyone’s but mine. [And maybe my brother’s. Actually, I can pretty confidently say the opinions are shared by my brother. But he wasn’t there on Sunday.]

The study begins, “The following verses are reflective of the life philosophy of a Christ follower. What do these verses say to you?”

Here, the answer is provided before the question is asked. It automatically narrows the focus of the study — essentially, we are provided with a thesis and asked to show how the scripture references support it. This is, to my mind, theologically questionable. It also prevents any actual learning or illumination of the text. [What I really want to write here is “PLZ TO NOT BE LEADING THE WITNESS OMG.” But I’m a good girl.]

Now I’ll talk about the text selections. I have a general bias against discrete verses studied out of their contexts, and especially so when there’s a big ol’ list of them. Studying discrete verses is a practice that, in my experience, only results in the student’s cultural perspective/paradigm/framework being erroneously applied to the text. Indeed, in doing this study, I felt I learned more about the person who wrote the study than I did about the text.

The opening statement of the study said that the verses listed were “reflective of the life philosophy of a Christ-follower.” Then, we’re presented with a list of exclusively old testament references. Let me be clear that I fully support and am interested in the study of the psalter and Proverbs and the other old testament texts. And I’m quite convinced that an understanding of Jewish history, religion and worldview is essential to an understanding of the gospels and the rest of the new testament. And I definitely believe that the Tanakh reveals facets of God. This study wasn’t about that, though.

Embedded within the study we did was a great question, though. What is the life philosophy of a Christ follower? This is an essential query, and an extremely challenging one. And I would love to do a study about it.

So what would that study look like? Well, ideally it would start with the question. Pose it to the group, maybe give everyone some time to think about it. Share the answers, but challenge the stock answers, the Sunday school scripts.

As for the text — well, I don’t know what it would be. [I seriously don’t. I don’t come up with the Bible studies, I just critique them.] But it would probably be out of the gospels, the part of the Bible where Jesus actually appears. [And probably the Pauline books, too, since rumour has it all this grace stuff is all Paul anyway.] I’d want them to be substantial chunks, too, and I’d want supporting material to help us interpret them. That means some theological texts. I realize not everyone feels as comfortable with academia as I do, but there are plenty of writers doing accessible, understandable theology, and I would love for our group to read some of it. In my own personal studies, I’ve found such writings invaluable for challenging my assumptions about the scriptures.

So, while I was disappointed with the study on Sunday, I could see a great study underneath, waiting to break out.

Aren’t you proud of me? See, I’m not misanthropic and bad-tempered all the time.

(Then again, I showed it to Brother Mark and he thought certain paragraphs were a bit “harsh.” Don’t mind him, he’s nice and Jesus-filled.)

technorati tags: bible study, bible, christianity, religion

Feminary linked to this excerpt from a book by Matthew Fox (the theologian, not the actor of Party of Five and Lost fame), The New Reformation. The excerpt is a list of “95 Theses: Articles of Faith for a Christianity for the Third Millennium.” I really love lists, have I mentioned that?Go read the list for yourself (the page also provides German translations for each, I can only assume as some sort of Lutheran historical reference). I picked out a few of my favourites, as well as some that were severely thought-provoking. Here they are, along with my responses.

3. God is always new, always young and always “in the beginning.”

I love thinking about the non-linear nature of God. There’s something fun about making your brain hurt by trying to comprehend the incomprehensible and paradoxical. The idea that there is a being, a force, a spirit that exists independent of time. That just because our existence is linear doesn’t mean all existence is.

OK, I admit, it’s also a very sci fi concept and maybe that’s why I like it.

After all, with me, it goes something like this:

THINGS I LIKE
1. Lists
2. Sci Fi

15. Christians must distinguish between Jesus (an historical figure) and Christ (the experience of God-in-all-things).

This is a really intriguing notion. I have nothing else to add.

25. There is a priesthood of all workers (all who are doing good work are midwives of grace and therefore priests) and this priesthood ought to be honored as sacred and workers should be instructed in spirituality in order to carry on their ministry effectively.

I think of the people I know who fill this definition, Christian or not, religious or not. Some of the people I know who embody this definition of priesthood are definitely not religious, since religion has a tendency to curtail their practice of grace-giving.

46. The human psyche is made for the cosmos and will not be satisfied until the two are re-united and awe, the beginning of wisdom, results from this reunion.

I have no idea what that means, but it sounds really good. And very science fictiony.

49. God is experienced in darkness, chaos, nothingness, suffering, silence and in learning to let go and let be (via negativa).

I’d like to engage this idea more. So many of us grew up with the teaching that “God is with you in the valleys as well as the mountain tops” (Which, by the way, always struck me as a strange metaphor, but that may just be me being a acrophobic prairie girl who prefers solid, flat ground to precarious peaks). But I want to know what kind of relationship God has with the darkness — i.e. is God part of the darkness? Is the darkness part of God? What kind of darkness are we talking about, anyway, because there are different kinds. I mean, there’s depression, heartbreak, the stuff that makes for angsty ballads and then there’s the stuff that’s unquestionably evil, like child abuse and sexual abuse. It’s easy to get poetic about darkness when you’re suffering from seasonal affective disorder. It’s another thing entirely when a young child is caged, starved, and beaten to death (as in the case of Phoenix Sinclair, a young girl whose death has rightfully garnered a great deal of media attention in my city, lately).

55. God speaks today as in the past through all religions and all cultures and all faith traditions none of which is perfect and an exclusive avenue to truth but all of which can learn from each other.

This is a statement which evangelical Christians are trained to greet with suspicion and even derision. I tend to believe it anyway.

86. Chaos is a friend and a teacher and an integral part or prelude to new birth. Therefore it is not to be feared or compulsively controlled.

This speaks to what I was rambling about in my last entry and what Steve touched on in the comments. This might be something I need to work on accepting on a personal level — that chaos, a lack of understanding, or whatever, is not something to be feared.

P.S. Matthew Fox has a blog. He’s also one of the folks behind the Cosmic Mass. You may have seen, as I did, a television news story about the mass, multimedia interactive event involving lasers, DJs and lots of dancing. I myself could get all snarky on the Cosmic Mass (like the fact that for $450 YOU TOO can learn to put on the Cosmic Mass! Or the fact that there’s a cover charge [$12, $15 at the door]), but I’m not really in the mood tonight. I’m just going to let Dr. Fox’s theses stand for now. Light show or no, they’re worth thinking about. Check them out and let me know what you think.

post-modern faith, christianity, religion, cosmic mass, matthew fox

technorati tags: post-modern faith, christianity, religion, cosmic mass, matthew fox

Steve and Josh are back from a hiatus for a second season of Stupid Church People and you have no idea how glad that makes me.

I was very excited for a few months when I discovered all these progressive blogs and started reading feminist theology in earnest. It was great, for a few months, learning new things and new perspectives. But now I’m afraid I’m right back where I started. I’ve read enough to know that feminism and Christianity aren’t mutually exclusive, and I’ve read enough to know that there are people who are finding new and interesting ways to practice and live faith in the modern world. But it still remains that Christianity is really difficult. It’s difficult to believe all the stuff you’re supposed to believe, and no amount of navel-gazing or study is going to change that.

At least, that’s how I feel right now.

Because when you think about it, Christianity is a really ridiculous thing, involving strange stories about fish and incidents of grotesque violence. You read the Gospels and you wonder, did Jesus even want anyone to understand his parables? Did he understand the parables, or was he just making it up? (I know I’m creeping over the heretic/blasphemer line here, but I don’t care anymore.)

There’s no way the Bible is completely “true,” so how is a person supposed to base her life on the teachings, stories, and traditions contained within it?

Look, I know I’m not the first person to go on about these things and people might even say that “wrestling” with these questions is the foundation of faith. I’m not pretending to be original, here. I just personally find it frustrating that I’m still wrestling. This might be a personal failing — a distaste for the incomplete, a latent strain of perfectionism that demands that the dots be connected and the pieces arranged so I can relax. Having a chronic illness has dulled these tendencies in my general life (I don’t have the extra energy to spare being all anal about stuff) but maybe hasn’t bled into my spiritual life. Not that I like to draw a distinction between the different kinds of “lives.” It’s all one life, to me.

I went to Church Pomo again on Sunday and it turns out a woman I know from childhood attends there and has in fact been involved since the very beginning of that church. She and I attended the same school for two years: grade one and grade nine. Grade nine was spent at a private Christian school, you can use your imagination about how that went. Also I almost choked to death in her back yard when I was six, but my mom gave me the Heimlich Maneuver and I survived.

THANK GOD.

technorati tags: stupid church people, church, christianity, religion

I haven’t felt like blogging lately. I just don’t know what to say. I’m tired of dealing with all this religion stuff. I’m tired of thinking, reading, pondering, contemplating, obsessing about it.

It’s been my experience with regard to religion that as soon as you find answers to one question, six more questions come up, none so easily answerable. At some point you want to stop thinking and start living.

I guess I’m back to the same place I’ve always been — wondering why it’s so easy for some people, and not for me. I’ve been writing about my growing frustration with FCoS (First Church of Suburbia). Before Christmas, the senior pastor approached me in the lobby after a seasonal concert and I mentioned I was reading a lot of feminist theology and he asked me how I felt about FCoS’ services, as a feminist. I told him I’d give him a call, make an appointment to talk about these things, but I never did.

For me it’s a matter of resource allocation. I have a chronic illness, and I have to be very careful about how I spend the hours in my day, how I use the limited energy reserves I have. I have to make time and energy for work, friends, and creativity, and lately I’ve been feeling like FCoS isn’t worth my energy. Harsh, I know, but if I were a normal, healthy person, I would just suck it up and go to services and bible studies. But lately, I’ve been thinking, do I really want to spend Sunday at FCoS, or do I want to spend my religious energy on, say, Church Pomo downtown? My mother has been encouraging my brother and me to talk with church leadership about our thoughts and perspectives. We’re hesitant, even though I know that our senior pastor is a thoughtful man who is open to new ideas and interested in engaging them. Is it just laziness on our part that we think, oh, they won’t listen to us anyway? We know from experience that often when you present Christians with a critique of their doctrine/practice, they often get defensive, and no real dialogue happens once the walls go up. But it’s not fair to assume that will happen. We should give them the benefit of the doubt.

I like going to Church Pomo, where communion isn’t served in little plastic cups, there’s artwork on the wall, and sermons are preached from the lectionary. But I’ve seen enough church-hoppers in action to know that leaving a church when you have problems with it isn’t necessarily the most helpful solution. FCoS is led by upper-middle-class, baby-boomer management types. It’s a little intimidating for twenty-something kids like my brother and me to approach these people and say, hey, we think things have to change.

technorati tags: church, christianity, religion