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January 30, 2004

Our precious bodily fluids

Filed under: Bible study,Theology (other) — Camassia @ 11:03 am

So I finally got my computer back, and after getting the right hardware, calling the right people and intoning the right four-letter words, I finally have a functioning printer. Yay!

While all this was going on, I went to Bible study on Tuesday. Normally these happen in a room adjoining the church, but for some reason this one was in a pizza parlor. In case I needed reminding that I’m not in an evangelical church any more, the pastor ordered a pitcher of beer and started urging it on me. I don’t like beer, but I had a cosmopolitan before I got there, so I was actually out ahead of the game.

But this wasn’t all about booze; no, there was still a Bible part of this Bible study. I mentioned the discussion I had with Kynn about the cleanliness rules in the Old Testament, and asked the pastor what he thought they were about.

His take was pretty similar to mine: they were mostly about health and hygiene, with the somewhat overbroad but generally sound advice to avoid touching sick people, dead people, and other people’s body fluids. He pointed out an obvious motif that I’d missed, though: the Hebrews clearly attached special significance to blood. Not only should you not touch human blood, but animal blood is strictly off-limits too. In fact, the rule against eating animal blood is one of the few Jewish laws we see applied to non-Jews, both after Noah’s flood and in Acts 15.

Again, there’s probably a hygenic component to this, but there’s something mystical going on too. Here’s how God explains it when he first lays down the no-eating-blood rule, in Genesis 9:

Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you; and just as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything. Only, you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood. For your own lifeblood I will surely require a reckoning: from every animal I will require it and from human beings, each one for the blood of another, I will require a reckoning for human life.

Blood is explicitly equated with “life” here. You can take this metaphorically, but whenever I read this I wonder if there wasn’t some ancient theory of anatomy going on here, wherein the blood was thought to house some animating spirit or life-force. So the blood avoidance would seem to be less because blood is “dirty” than that it’s sacred.

This all puts an especially interesting cast on the Last Supper, where Jesus instructs his disciples to drink his “blood.” It explains why he broke up “body” and “blood” into two parts; normally we’d think blood would go naturally with “body”, but perhaps they were meant to signify two different elements. It also makes the act extra subversive: as if the taint of cannibalism weren’t enough, you have to drink blood, which is forbidden even from animals.

Not that I really know what the hell is going on here. I just have this feeling there’s something there that I’m not quite getting into focus.

January 26, 2004

Chilling

Filed under: Arts and entertainment — Camassia @ 8:09 am

My computer’s in the shop again. No biggie, just getting a new USB card put in. But the downside of CompUSA’s free installation is that a zillion other people are doing it too, so you have to wait a while. So it’s putting a crimp in the ol’ blogging.

Before I lost my computer, my latest Internet addiction was And You Call Yourself A Scientist!, a horror/sci-fi movie review site by a smart, funny Australian female scientist. Hey, I can’t do theology all the time…

January 22, 2004

It’s been a hard day’s night

Filed under: Humor — Camassia @ 10:07 am

Noah Millman sounds less than convinced that the National Review has its finger on the pulse of America’s youth.

January 21, 2004

What a woman wants

Filed under: Religion and sex — Camassia @ 3:56 pm

Over the last few months I’ve been having this drawn-out argument with Telford about Ephesians 5, set off by how he interpreted it here. I’m not going to rehash the entire thing here, but yesterday we had a conversation that raised some points I’ve been turning over in my mind.

As often happens in these sorts of blowouts, I think our positions aren’t as far from each other as I thought they were. Probably the biggest sore point was on the subject of equality — he seemed to have been downplaying it or outright criticizing it. But it’s not actually because he thinks one sex is inferior to the other; he just doesn’t think using the language of equality is very Christian, for reasons similar to what Jennifer outlined here. Jesus didn’t demand equality for himself or defend his rights; Christians should follow the example of totally giving themselves, instead of seeing where they sit in the pecking order. Telford said talk of equality reminds him too much of his kids saying, “It’s not fair!”

Well, OK, I see his point. But I think that has more to do with how equality talk has been playing out in the culture lately than what its merits are as a concept. When we say that two plus two equals four, it is not because four has asserted its right to be equal to two twos; it’s just a statement of fact. By the same token, when Jefferson wrote that “all men are created equal,” he was saying that they are equal simply by how they are made, whether anybody acknowledges it or not. So even if going around promoting your own worthiness isn’t a very Christian thing to do, there should still be an underlying understanding that women are just as worthy as men are.

I think that Telford’s problem isn’t that he’s a closet male chauvinist, but that, in fact, he is so accustomed to the idea that women are his equals in all substantive ways that he can’t conceive of how you can obey the Christian standard of giving yourself to one without treating her as an equal. But one of the thorniest problems with the whole “love your neighbor as yourself” concept is that your idea of what’s best for the other person is shaped by your perception of their nature. So, it would not be in the best interest of a woman to educate her if you don’t think she has the intellectual capacity to benefit from it; you can rationalize keeping her cooped up in the house because the weaker sex is more vulnerable to evil influence in the outside world; and so on. No doubt selfishness is a major factor in the oppression of women, but I don’t share Telford’s apparent faith that sheer altruism can overcome these pesky equality questions.

Really, both inside and outside Christianity, arguments over women’s rights and role in society still revolve around basic premises about our true nature, and what’s in our best interest. Visit most of the Catholic blogs to the left, and you’ll eventually find an explanation of why abortion (and perhaps birth control) is inimical to female nature; visit some of the lefty blogs and you’ll likely find an explanation of why free access to abortion is a must for women’s well-being. Women themselves disagree on these things, of course, making the picture even more confusing. But these arguments proceed from basic assumptions about what makes women (and people in general) happy — is it to have your personal will as much in charge of your life as possible? Or is it to get in tune with your biological destiny?

One striking contrast between Telford’s take on this kind of thing and the Catholics’ is that Telford, being an evangelical, leans heavily on the New Testament as an image of Christian life. That image, however, is of Christians living in a society created and controlled by non-Christians. This came home to me at one point in the discussion when I asked Telford how he’d feel about reversing Paul’s advice in the Ephesians passage — saying that husbands should be subject to wives, and wives should nurture their husbands.

If Paul were writing to Amazons, sure, he said. That would be appropriate.

This says to me, for one thing, that the disagreement with Allen Brill was probably more rhetorical than substantive. I expect both of them would say Paul was trying to Christianize a patriarchal culture, but Telford focuses on the Christianizing and Allen on the patriarchy. But it leaves lying open the question of how, then, Christians deal with gender relations when they’re in charge of the culture. The Catholic Church faced this early on, and drew up a theory of gender that was, thanks to the sketchiness of the NT on this subject, obliged to draw from other sources, such as Greek natural-law theory. The results are, well, not ones that either Telford or I totally agree with.

But even when Christians are a minority, Telford’s statement makes an interesting comment about what relation is supposed to exist between them and the culture they live in. The approach Christians took back then, he said later, was to be above reproach, to obey the law (except for unthinkables like worshipping the emperor), so that no one could accuse them of just being rabble-rousing wingnuts. I can think of a lot of Christians, both left and right, who would see this as selling out — the way to direct the culture is to put both hands on the wheel and steer. But the guy we honored a few days ago, Martin Luther King, took an attitude somewhat resembling this. By being clean-cut, devout, nonviolent and otherwise exemplary, his followers showed rather than just asserted that they were the equals of white people. This irritated some radicals at the time, who would rather have overthrown Western culture, or who thought King was placing too much faith in the good consciences of his opponents. But that faith, you might say, was really a faith in the power of the Holy Spirit to change hearts.

Of course, that movement was all about asserting equality, so that kind of attacks Telford’s first point. But I think they pulled it off without sounding like whiny kids.

Correction

Filed under: Church life — Camassia @ 11:26 am

Turns out the “new” liturgy mentioned in the last post wasn’t actually new, even for this church. Apparently I just happened to show up there when it was on hold for a few months while the new musical director learned it. Dash was right that the music’s been around for a while, and the pastor said that some Lutheran churches have moved on to still newer liturgies. The other folks I was discussing this with said it will grow on me. (I didn’t mention that it reminds me of Priceline ads!)

January 18, 2004

Sign o’ the times

Filed under: Church life — Camassia @ 10:20 pm

What with everything going on I hadn’t been to church, or anything related to it, since that caroling outing. It had been even longer since I’d been to its 9 a.m. service. For some reason back when I drove across town to Christian Assembly I didn’t have much trouble getting there at 9, but now I’m going to a church with half the commute time I sleep in more often. Maybe it’s because I know even in my sleep that this service, which is shorter, without the driving and without a long confab with Telford, isn’t going to take as big a chunk out of my day. But this morning I woke up early, so I made the early one.

Grace Lutheran’s early service is “contemporary” and its 11 a.m. service is “traditional.” From the ones I’d attended before I saw little difference; the early show had a low-key band playing as people wander in (some of the songs I remember from CA), the choir sang a newish tune before Communion, and the Lord’s Prayer was in modern rather than King James English. Other than that, they were identical.

But for the New Year, apparently, they changed all the liturgical music. The variable hymns are still from the same hymnals, but the Kyrie and other sung bits of the standard service had changed. For instance, here’s the beginning the traditional hymn following the Kyrie:

Worthy is Christ, the Lamb who was slain, whose blood set us free to be people of God. Power and riches and wisdom and strength, and honor and blessing and glory are his. This is the feast of victory for our God. Alleluia. Sing with all the people of God and join in the hymn of all creation.

The new version goes:

(chorus) Now the feast and celebration, all of creation sings for joy to the God of life and love and freedom; praise and glory forever more;
Now is the feast of the Lamb once slain, whose blood has freed and united us to be one great people of God. (chorus)
Power and riches, wisdom and might, all honor and glory to Christ forever (chorus)

As you can see, the lyrical changes rearrange the words without really changing their meaning. But the music is quite different. Normally some spritely organ music would accompany this, but the mod version featured an electric keyboard, a tamborine and conga drums played, like all the new musical bits, at a dreamy andante tempo.

Somewhere around the communion hymn, it hit me what it all reminded me of: those William Shatner Priceline.com ads. Once I had that image in my mind, it was pretty hard to keep a straight face. I don’t know, maybe I should stick with the 11 o’clock service. I don’t think Lutherans, God love ‘em, should try to be cool.

January 15, 2004

Comment catchup

Filed under: Politics and society — Camassia @ 4:51 pm

Some time ago I left a comment on one of Chris Burgwald’s posts, and due to the various distractions never got around to reading, much less responding to, other comments directed at me. So I apologize for the delay, but here goes.

T.S. O’Rama asked:

But if women are becoming more masculinized due to capitalism’s emphasis on competition, why are men becoming more feminized?

One point of disagreement I had with the article Chris linked to is its high-school football player’s idea of what constitutes “masculine.” Here’s it’s evidence for Playboy’s “feminization” of men:

First Hefner domesticated men: he took them out of the field and stream and into the living room … The Playboy universe encouraged appreciation of the “finer things”—literature, a good pipe, a cashmere pullover, a beautiful lady. America was seeing the advent of the urban single male who, lest his subversive departure from domestic norms suggest homosexuality, was now enjoying new photos of nude women every month.

It is very strange, historically speaking, to think of literature and luxury as “feminine”, given that men have traditionally owned all the education and the money. What we’re really seeing here, I think, is the fact that the industrial age makes life physically easier than ever before, so it’s true enough that people have a lot less tolerance for hardship and pain.

But this is true for women as well as men. Most women of the past have had to work hard all day, bear many children without medicine, and tolerate disease and abuse without complaint. Moreover, this physical toughness is not the same as competitiveness. I’ve been reading Patrick O’Brian’s novels lately, set in the early 1800s, and it’s striking how much the Navy men have to display physical courage while at the same time appear humble and not strive above their position.

In other words, the norms of “masculine” and “feminine” encompass many different traits whose cultural stock may rise and fall independently of each other. We just notice more when the changes go against gender norms than when they conform to them: we wonder why men are getting softer and women more competitive, but not why the reverse is also happening.

Jeanne Schmelzer later says:

If children are devalued because of their being a liability, I also propose that children are devalued when they are an economic asset. Because then they aren’t looked at as a person but what that person can do for me, rather than as a unique person created by God with all their gifts to be used to point to eternity and the betterment of society.

Absolutely, and I did not mean to imply that children should simply be valued by their economic worth. But I think that when we’re comparing current attitudes toward childbearing towards those of the past, or of agrarian societies today, we’d do well to remember that the conflict between work and family as we know it today didn’t exist for them. People being the way we are, if we have multiple motives for things we like to think the unselfish ones are the real reasons we’re doing something, but when we’re put to the test we may find differently.

I think the main problem today’s society has with childbearing is not that we don’t think having children is good, but that we don’t want the number of children people wanted in the past. Standards of childrearing have in many ways gone up — the conditions most children were raised in throughout world history would be considered totally unacceptable today, and for good reason. But the demand for quantity has gone down, while our sexual appetites stay the same as ever. Commitment-free sex has always appealed of course — hence the age of the world’s oldest profession — but the outright hostile relationship between sex and childbearing that seems to have pervaded a lot of culture is, I think, a function of the industrial age.

But even in the past, I think, the self-interest of family members could be destructive. Telford wrote a while ago that some of Jesus’ anti-family statements might have been motivated by the suffocating nature of the kin network, which pressured people to put the clan above all else, including right. So, there may never have been a culture that was great at valuing children for purely spiritual reasons.

January 13, 2004

High on the desert plain

Filed under: Personal stuff — Camassia @ 6:38 pm

Whew! I sent my mother off at the airport this morning, after a very busy trip. Most of it was shopping, actually, because her Christmas present was to get me a chest of drawers, which pretty much had to be selected here. But we did have a pleasure trip.

My mother likes naturally beauty and places that don’t look like rural Pennsylvania, where she now lives. So I decided to take her to Joshua Tree National Park. It’s a huge preserve out in the Mojave Desert, about 100 miles east of L.A. Neither of us had been there before. In fact, I really hadn’t been out in pure desert before at all.

It’s an amazing place. It’s hard to explain how alien it looks, even to someone from a neighboring ecosystem. Joshua trees are actually a type of yucca plant that grows in a treelike fashion; if you just know them from the picture on the U2 album, you really don’t get an idea of how weird they look. The guide described them as looking like Dr. Suess trees, which is getting at it. The branches of each tree twist in their own freewheeling fashion, and looking at a whole “forest” of them you may wonder if you ate one of those desert mushrooms without realizing it.

There are also rock formations that defy description. This picture of Skull Rock gives you an idea, but you really have to see them in situ to believe them. There are these great “piles” of boulders that look so haphazard that my mother was convinced that in an earthquake they’d tumble down. Yet when you climb on them you realize the “loose” rocks are totally immobile.

We didn’t stay overnight, but since it got dark early I was able to look at the stars from the desert. From L.A., not surprisingly, few stars are visible. (One speaker at the local planetarium quipped that if Carl Sagan had grown up in L.A., he would have looked at the stars and said there must be dozens and dozens of them.) In Joshua Tree there was such a thick blanket of them it was difficult to pick out the constellations among them. The Milky Way arced almost straight overhead, and the universe seemed oddly close. As I was walking back from the dry cleaners this evening and saw the familiar form of Orion glimmering faintly above, it was hard to believe it was the same sky.

My mother and I were both really glad we went there, but I must admit I don’t understand wanting to live in the desert. When I was there I enjoyed the beauty but there was an undercurrent of melancholy, a bite. I was aware, subliminally, that this was not a place for humans, that I could die here. It was nearly pure nature, and it was harsh.

On the long drive back we listened to the U2 album. I got it for my sixteenth birthday, so it’s almost part of my DNA by now, but it was interesting hearing it after seeing the locale that evidently inspired it. The lyrics are full of desert imagery, and both the melancholy and the harsh purity of the desert inhabit the music. My mother remarked that the park reminds her of the Biblical wilderness, and indeed, the hills look a lot like pictures of Israel that I’ve seen. It’s interesting to think, as Tom said here a while ago, that the Israelites thought the wilderness was God’s place. What does that say about him?

January 5, 2004

Recovery

Filed under: Orthopraxis — Camassia @ 6:05 pm

Sorry I’ve slacked off again, but I was fighting off a virus all weekend. I suspect it was that flu that’s been going around, since the major symptom was crushing fatigue. Anyway, I seem to have fought it off, but I have to get ready for my mother’s arrival tomorrow. So posting will be intermittent for another week or so.

One bright spot in the weekend was that I finally heard from Telford. Fans no doubt have noticed he hasn’t posted since November 12, and I hadn’t heard from him in about a month, so I was wondering what was happening. Turns out his entire family got the flu, all except him, so he spent the holidays as a nurse. Being him, though, he sounded pretty sanguine about it all. When I wrote him I mentioned in passing that there had been a dispute in blogdom about Christmas, and he remarked:

I love Christmas, except when I’m at the ER holding a fussy Benjamin. The sentiment is fun, and we participate in all the usual American traditions, but nothing is better than the church service (whether it is the Sunday before at CA, which we missed, or a Christmas Eve vigil at Lake Avenue or St. Mark’s, which we also missed). Sure, America turns Christmas into indulgence and consumerism and all the rest, but church cuts through it with the good news of Jesus Christ, which rescues every Christmas from its own trappings and even redeems them. Even when the trappings are a morning in the ER holding an inconsolable baby (shades of Bethlehem there, perhaps)!

That reminded me that I meant to link to Richard Hall’s post on Christmas and materialism. I think he made a very good point:

Christmas is a supremely materialistic festival. We celebrate the fact that God took human flesh — became incarnate — and lived among his people. He did not enter the world as a glorious heavenly being. He came as a baby, doing all the things that babies do. Forget the sentimental carols and Christmas cards. If the Christian gospel means anything at all, it is that “God is with us”. Through the incarnation, God takes fallen human flesh and makes it holy. I think it was Irenaeus who put it this way: “He became what we are, that we might become what he is.” So if ever there was a time to celebrate our flesh with eating, merrymaking and music — this is it! Christians should not be on the sidelines looking po-faced. We should be showing the world how to party!

The real trouble is not with Christmas, but with the rest of the year. In the west we live every day as though it were a party. The reason we over-indulge to such excess at Christmas is that we over-indulge the rest of the year. The target of the church’s complaint should not be the materialism of Christmas, but the materialism of a lifestyle in which excess is not only lauded, it is practically compulsory. But, of course, it is much harder to address an overindulgent way of life than it is to “Bah! Humbug!” about a short time of celebration. We complain about the splinter in our brother’s eye but don’t notice the plank in our own.

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