Recently, a friend posted a video clip to her facebook page. This clip is a compilation of tweets posted on twitter, arranged music video style, and uploaded to youtube depicting "death threats" against Wisconsin governor Scott Walker. The "story" is reported by FoxNews. A few blogs, like this one, have picked it up, criticizing democrats, the "Far Left Loons," union activists, and most especially the mainline, liberal media for failing to report on this "story."
The criticisms are about what one would expect from these sources: "liberals are mindless idiots", "democrats are ruining the country", "the liberal media once again plays favorites, demonizing Sarah Palin and the Tea Party while ignoring vitriolic hate speech and calls to violence of the left by failing to report on this 'story'."
Let me be clear on a few points:
1. I'm a registered Democrat
2. I'm really far to the left
3. I find calls to violence offensive regardless of who's calling
However, I find the notion that a few tweets by a couple of people is somehow newsworthy because it uses violent rhetoric ridiculous. And I find it grossly offensive that this "story" is being contrasted to the comments made by the liberal media in the aftermath of the Gabrielle Giffords assassination attempt; comments that, while calling out Sarah Palin and the Tea Party specifically, also chastised those on the left for their use of violent rhetoric in the past, repudiated their own past use of violent rhetoric, and called for increased civility in public discourse.
Here's why I find this "story" offensive:
Having watched the video, and looked at the twitter accounts of every individual who has a tweet represented, we have a total of 13 tweets represents 12 individual accounts with a grand total of 1,347 followers, and only one twitter user makes any mention in their biographical information that might indicate a political affiliation, and it's "progressive."
6 of these tweets actually call for violence.
4 of these tweets wish Scott Walker would die.
3 of these tweets draw the conclusion that someone is likely take violent action against Scott Walker for his policies.
This is contrasted with Sarah Palin's twitter account which has 421,622 followers. Sarah Palin and the Tea Party are household names. They are well known political activists who spend billions of dollars on political ads to put their names on television. They go on talk shows, news shows, participate in televised debates, and have historically made significant calls for violence in what they deemed colorful speech that no one could be expected to take seriously.
Do I believe that the hateful rhetoric of the right has contributed to a climate of hate? Yes. As has the hateful rhetoric of the left. Anytime we use hate speech we contribute to a climate of violence regardless of where we fall on the political spectrum--assuming we count ourselves on that spectrum at all.
Do I believe Sarah Palin and the Tea Party are responsible for the violent actions of others? No. We each make our own choices. We are influenced, certainly, by any number of factors. Ultimately, however, we choose how we act and react.
Do I believe that a few tweets by a dozen people who are followed by 0.00000449% of the US population is newsworthy? Definitely not.
Because, you know, if that were the case, then my local news channel failing to report on the amazing recipes I perfect and share with all of you is a gross oversight of liberal media. When's FoxNews going to knock on my door?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
And Then, I Turned the Other Cheek
This past Sunday, our pastor preached on Matthew 5:38-48.
He spoke specifically about the 1st century culture of "turning the other cheek," "giving both your cloak and your tunic," and "walking another mile." It really was an excellent sermon, and I quite enjoyed it. As Ministry Intern at the church, I was asked to assist in the demonstrative portion of the sermon.
The demonstration came when the pastor explained how one would strike an equal, with an open hand or fist, to the left cheek with the intent to cause physical harm. If one was striking a subordinate, one would strike with the back of the hand, connecting with the right cheek instead, with the intent to "put one in his/her place." As the pastor explained it, "turning the other cheek," would, culturally, draw attention the evil of the superiors actions, equating their use of physical violence as a means of social control with the use of physical violence as a means of injury.
Now, when the pastor asked me before the service if I would be willing to assist in the sermon, I was more than willing. It was not until after I had consented, that he told me what he intended. I began to have reservations.
My concerns were not that my pastor would actually strike me. He is, perhaps, the gentlest man I know. He's kind and considerate, and incredibly jocular. I truly enjoy talking with him, working with him, learning from him.
Assisting in the worship service, participating in the worship service, being in the worship service prior to the sermon, however, I was distracted. I wondered about the theological implications of my pastor slapping and backhanding me, even if he stopped short of actually striking me. I wondered what the effect of witnessing such a demonstration might have on 1) those in the audience who had experienced domestic violence and 2) children in the audience who were going to see their pastor "strike" me.
I was actually quite troubled by the whole notion. By time the sermon came, and I stood before my congregation, I was really uncomfortable. My discomfort grew as the pastor spoke about the cultural significance as it related to male/female and superior/subordinate relationships. Here I was, a female intern, being "struck" by her male supervisor. Though my pastor's hand never made contact with my face, it was difficult. At one point, I remember thinking to myself, "Just keep it together. It'll be over soon."
Now, the whole "keeping it together" is a thought I have every time I'm called up in front of the church by my pastor. He likes to give them updates on my ordination journey--reintroducing me to the church when I applied for In Care status, telling them I'd be received by the deacons and would be applying next to the Association, that I was accepted by the Association and was now a "Member in Discernment" since they had changed the language two months ago.... All things better said in a newsletter, or better yet, the Annual Report, which hardly anyone, it seems bothers to read. I'm just not comfortable standing in front of a crowd while someone else talks about me. I feel like a stage prop. It's weird. But, I digress.
This time, however, I was trying to "keep it together" for other reasons. I thought about my mother. I thought about my sister. I thought about both of my brothers. All of whom have been victims of domestic violence or child abuse. I wasn't frightened or upset. I was mindful of the reality of my family of origin, and what it means to me, personally, to willingly participate in a demonstration of the abuses of power.
Now, certainly, this was a demonstration that spoke against the abuses of power. But it was an extremely uncomfortable demonstration for me, nonetheless.
As I returned to my seat, I wondered about a lot of things--were their people in the congregation, other than my family, who had been subjected to or perpetrators of domestic violence? How were they coping with the sermon demonstration? Did it register for them at all, or were they so divorced from their experience, as is common with trauma survivors, that they were wholly unaffected by what was unfolding before them on stage? What was my role in all of this? Do I, as an intern, have a right or a responsibility to share with my supervisor the realities of PTSD and the potential for such a demonstration to elicit a trauma response in those watching, even if they knew no violence was actually being perpetrated?
And how could this have been done differently? What would it have been like if my pastor had asked me, a female subordinate, to demonstrate on him, a male superior, the differences in between the two methods of striking? What were the theological implications of turning things upside down in that way? Or if the pastor had asked a male deacon to assist? How would that have been read, socially and theologically? And, hey, what about male-on-male violence in the U.S.?
I understand what my pastor's intent was, but somehow, I think it would have been better, much better, to use really descriptive language, to paint a mental picture, rather than use a live prop. Maybe we need to get the church to invest in a couple of mannequins.
At the end of it all, with the exception of really itchy skin, I walked away unscathed. But with much to ponder.
He spoke specifically about the 1st century culture of "turning the other cheek," "giving both your cloak and your tunic," and "walking another mile." It really was an excellent sermon, and I quite enjoyed it. As Ministry Intern at the church, I was asked to assist in the demonstrative portion of the sermon.
The demonstration came when the pastor explained how one would strike an equal, with an open hand or fist, to the left cheek with the intent to cause physical harm. If one was striking a subordinate, one would strike with the back of the hand, connecting with the right cheek instead, with the intent to "put one in his/her place." As the pastor explained it, "turning the other cheek," would, culturally, draw attention the evil of the superiors actions, equating their use of physical violence as a means of social control with the use of physical violence as a means of injury.
Now, when the pastor asked me before the service if I would be willing to assist in the sermon, I was more than willing. It was not until after I had consented, that he told me what he intended. I began to have reservations.
My concerns were not that my pastor would actually strike me. He is, perhaps, the gentlest man I know. He's kind and considerate, and incredibly jocular. I truly enjoy talking with him, working with him, learning from him.
Assisting in the worship service, participating in the worship service, being in the worship service prior to the sermon, however, I was distracted. I wondered about the theological implications of my pastor slapping and backhanding me, even if he stopped short of actually striking me. I wondered what the effect of witnessing such a demonstration might have on 1) those in the audience who had experienced domestic violence and 2) children in the audience who were going to see their pastor "strike" me.
I was actually quite troubled by the whole notion. By time the sermon came, and I stood before my congregation, I was really uncomfortable. My discomfort grew as the pastor spoke about the cultural significance as it related to male/female and superior/subordinate relationships. Here I was, a female intern, being "struck" by her male supervisor. Though my pastor's hand never made contact with my face, it was difficult. At one point, I remember thinking to myself, "Just keep it together. It'll be over soon."
Now, the whole "keeping it together" is a thought I have every time I'm called up in front of the church by my pastor. He likes to give them updates on my ordination journey--reintroducing me to the church when I applied for In Care status, telling them I'd be received by the deacons and would be applying next to the Association, that I was accepted by the Association and was now a "Member in Discernment" since they had changed the language two months ago.... All things better said in a newsletter, or better yet, the Annual Report, which hardly anyone, it seems bothers to read. I'm just not comfortable standing in front of a crowd while someone else talks about me. I feel like a stage prop. It's weird. But, I digress.
This time, however, I was trying to "keep it together" for other reasons. I thought about my mother. I thought about my sister. I thought about both of my brothers. All of whom have been victims of domestic violence or child abuse. I wasn't frightened or upset. I was mindful of the reality of my family of origin, and what it means to me, personally, to willingly participate in a demonstration of the abuses of power.
Now, certainly, this was a demonstration that spoke against the abuses of power. But it was an extremely uncomfortable demonstration for me, nonetheless.
As I returned to my seat, I wondered about a lot of things--were their people in the congregation, other than my family, who had been subjected to or perpetrators of domestic violence? How were they coping with the sermon demonstration? Did it register for them at all, or were they so divorced from their experience, as is common with trauma survivors, that they were wholly unaffected by what was unfolding before them on stage? What was my role in all of this? Do I, as an intern, have a right or a responsibility to share with my supervisor the realities of PTSD and the potential for such a demonstration to elicit a trauma response in those watching, even if they knew no violence was actually being perpetrated?
And how could this have been done differently? What would it have been like if my pastor had asked me, a female subordinate, to demonstrate on him, a male superior, the differences in between the two methods of striking? What were the theological implications of turning things upside down in that way? Or if the pastor had asked a male deacon to assist? How would that have been read, socially and theologically? And, hey, what about male-on-male violence in the U.S.?
I understand what my pastor's intent was, but somehow, I think it would have been better, much better, to use really descriptive language, to paint a mental picture, rather than use a live prop. Maybe we need to get the church to invest in a couple of mannequins.
At the end of it all, with the exception of really itchy skin, I walked away unscathed. But with much to ponder.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Mental Illness and Bible Formation
During my time in seminary, I was asked by an instructor what kind of a visual I might produce to explain the formation of the bible. This is the kind of question that gets me totally stoked in the course of a discussion. Primarily because I tend to think in analogies. So, this was right up my alley. The images that struck me was a cosmic ransom note.
Now, I know a lot of people who hold to the notion of verbal plenary inspiration. I wonder if they've ever read The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Code of Ur-Nammu, the Annals of Merneptah, or any number of other historical texts that predate not just the old testament, but the Torah as well by over 1000 years.
So, here we have a new text (the bible) that is made up of bits and pieces of multiple older texts (all the parallel stories that predate the bible). It's like God (if one believes that God is the author of the bible) or the authors of the bible cut out bits and pieces, single words or sometimes just a letter from any number of newspapers or magazine articles and created a new document. Getting the visual, oh kind reader?
That was the image I had during my first semester in seminary.
I found a new image during my last semester.
I have two marvelous friends who both love games. Board games, card games, checkers, chess... The more people playing, the more fun they have. These are the friends who introduced me to Bananagrams. I was already familiar with the concept from Speed Scrabble. The competitive nature of these games, paired with my, at times frustratingly, large vocabulary made them games to which I naturally gravitated.
However, on the non-competitive side of things, and just ridiculously good fun when you have a large gathering, is Telephone Pictionary. This might be the most hilarious game I've ever played, and one that can be enjoyed in my family, because there are no winners or losers. Just really, really ridiculous fun. Additionally, learning Telephone Pictionary gave me a new mental image for the formation of the bible.
In Telephone Pictionary, everyone gets a piece of paper and a writing utensil. Each person writes a sentence on the top of his/her paper. Then, everyone passes the paper to the person on their left (if play is going counter-clockwise) or their right (if play is going clockwise). It is best to alternate from one game to the next which direction you are passing so as not to always end up having to interpret the sentence of the person to one side or the other.
After passing the paper, everyone draws a picture interpreting the sentence. Then, they fold the paper back so that the sentence is hidden and pass the paper, showing only the picture, to the next person. Now, everyone writes a sentence interpreting the picture that has been passed to them. Play continues in this way, with everyone receiving only a picture or a sentence to interpret through a sentence or a drawing, until each paper is once again in the hands of the originator.
This game is hilarious! Seriously. It does, however, require a minimum of 5 people to be truly effective.
Generally, by the time the originator gets his/her own paper back, the interpretation of the original sentence has become so convoluted, no one really knows how the original sentence read. Unfolding the paper and discovering how each step newly interpreted the previous step, and how each step was one step further removed from the original author's intent is really, really delightful.
Telephone Pictionary is the framework I use for thinking about the formation of the Bible. The original author(s) wrote something. It had a particular meaning in a particular culture. The meaning was pictured in the minds of the original readers in a way that might have been pretty accurate to the authors' intent. Over time, as the stories have been told, new layers of meaning have been applied. Over time, as the stories have been told, in new places, in new cultures, in new languages, those stories have been removed step by step from the original meaning of the text.
Ultimately, I think we might have a document that does not much resemble or effectively communicate the intent of the original authors. This isn't to say that the Bible is of no use to us today. The whole point of interpreting the Bible is discerning what these stories mean for us today. How do we, as a community in a new culture, speaking an entirely different language, make meaning from a text that is so far removed from its origins? That is, maybe, the best part of writing sermons.
I have some access through other sources to a cursory understanding of the cultures in which these texts were written. Sometimes, in the course of daily reading or intentional research, I'll come across a single sentence that illuminates a small aspect of 1st century Palestine, and it'll deepen, enrich, and transform my understanding of a given biblical pericope, making it alive and applicable in ways that light my faith on fire. It's fantastic!
But images of biblical formation aren't the point of this post. Which might seem ridiculous given the amount of space I've used to describe those images.
Nope, the point of this post is to process some of what I'm feeling about living with someone who is mentally ill.
I live with someone who does not communicate effectively. I do not know how much of this is a result of the mental illness and how much of it is a learned trait. In terms of communication, the individual in question is engaging in behaviors that mimic those which were modeled for him in childhood by his father, but with distinct differences.
Both the father and the son, at times, speak in riddles. Puzzles. Code, if you will, to which they alone (most of the time) have the key, and which they believe they alone (all of the time) can decipher. In the case of the father, there is a distinct attitude of intellectual superiority. It is an attitude that communicates a desire to frustrate and confuse others. For example, a note might be left on the refrigerator attached to a $5.00 bill. The note, however, will be written using only the first letter of each word.
For example:
DD,
PBOLOSGB.
T,
D
For those of you who don't read this type of code, it translates:
Dear Daughter,
Please buy one loaf of seven grain bread.
Thanks,
Dad
Any guesses out there as to what happens when the daughter to whom the note was addressed actually takes the $5.00 and returns home with a loaf of seven grain bread?
The father in question gets a look of disappointment that his note was understood and the request granted, and he then pouts for the rest of the evening.
It's a bit different in regards to the son. In the case of the individual with whom I live, there is no indication that the purpose of speaking in code is done to frustrate others. In fact, the person who gets most frustrated tends to be the individual himself. It's like he's speaking in a different language.
He makes statements or asks questions that do not provide enough information. When asked for clarifications, or when a person repeats what they understand him to be communicating and asks if they have it right, he insists that they are making it more difficult than necessary. He insists that he asked a simple question or made a simple statement. Except his understanding of "simple" often does not take into account culturally relevant understandings.
For example:
Today, he said, "I'm going for a four mile walk around [town]. Who wants to go with me?"
Now, the cultural understanding of "around [town]" is "from place to place in"; i.e. a four-mile walk around town would be a four mile walk from place to place in town.
This is where the confusion came in for me: the town in which we live has a 1/2 mile circumference. I wish I were kidding.
In trying to get a clear picture of where he would be walking, so as to be better prepared to decide whether or not to join him, I responded, "You're going to walk around town eight times?"
Him: "No. I'm going for a four mile walk around [town]."
Me: "Okay, but its only a half mile walk around [town], so, how..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "You're not listening to me! I said I'm going to walk around [town]!"
Me: "Okay, but..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "Look, as far as I know, if I take the blacktop, to the highway, turn right, walk up to the next gravel road, turn right, walk to the intersection of the next gravel road, turn right, walk to the next intersection, I'll be back to the blacktop, at which point, I'll turn right, and when I get home, I'll have walked 1 mile in each direction, and have walked four miles around town!"
Me: "Oh. So, you're going for a walk in the country..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "Just forget it! You never listen to me!"
I sometimes feel like I've been hijacked to crazy land, handed a ransom note, and the only way out is to interpret the note without any kind of a key. It's like trying to divine the intent of the original biblical authors without knowing biblical Hebrew, Greek, or Aramaic, and without any training whatsoever in ancient cultures. Sometimes, it just can't be done.
Not without a lot of yelling.
And see, that's the part that leaves me needing to blog about my frustrations. Not the fact that I've been hijacked to crazy land and constantly have to expend significant amounts of mental and emotional energy to understand anything this person says. It's the fact that because of his mental illness, he's volatile and unpredictable, with a history of violence.
Now, he hasn't demonstrated a tendency toward physical violence since he got clean and sober. So, I don't have any concerns for my physical safety. I just sometimes wish I could finish a sentence, to ensure that I understand what he's trying communicate without being interrupted and yelled at. Or, alternately, that he just wouldn't talk to me at all. Because, honestly, it's exhausting. And some days, I just do not have the energy.
Of course, I've told him this. Nothing changes. My only option, some days, is to stop what I'm doing and physically remove myself from an area. This is particularly frustrating if I'm trying to get work done on the computer or in the kitchen. Sometimes, I just can't stop working on a sermon--because I'm under a deadline. Sometimes, I just can't walk away from the kitchen--because if I leave a dish unattended it'll burn, and if I stop the process with the intent to return later, it'll be ruined. Something are just time-sensitive. And sometimes, I'm just tired.
And those seem to be the times when he comes in, most anxious, most unwilling to take "no" for answer, most unwilling to respect boundaries. Those are the times when I cannot give 100% of my attention and energy to figuring out what he's saying without asking any kind of clarifying questions. Those are the times when I need to remind myself that no matter how tempting the activity he's proffering might seem, "No," is always the best, most appropriate response. Because if I can't figure out immediately what he's talking about, asking questions might clarify things, but I'm going to get yelled at in the process.
Biblical interpretation and Telephone Pictionary are way more fun.
Now, I know a lot of people who hold to the notion of verbal plenary inspiration. I wonder if they've ever read The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Code of Ur-Nammu, the Annals of Merneptah, or any number of other historical texts that predate not just the old testament, but the Torah as well by over 1000 years.
So, here we have a new text (the bible) that is made up of bits and pieces of multiple older texts (all the parallel stories that predate the bible). It's like God (if one believes that God is the author of the bible) or the authors of the bible cut out bits and pieces, single words or sometimes just a letter from any number of newspapers or magazine articles and created a new document. Getting the visual, oh kind reader?
That was the image I had during my first semester in seminary.
I found a new image during my last semester.
I have two marvelous friends who both love games. Board games, card games, checkers, chess... The more people playing, the more fun they have. These are the friends who introduced me to Bananagrams. I was already familiar with the concept from Speed Scrabble. The competitive nature of these games, paired with my, at times frustratingly, large vocabulary made them games to which I naturally gravitated.
However, on the non-competitive side of things, and just ridiculously good fun when you have a large gathering, is Telephone Pictionary. This might be the most hilarious game I've ever played, and one that can be enjoyed in my family, because there are no winners or losers. Just really, really ridiculous fun. Additionally, learning Telephone Pictionary gave me a new mental image for the formation of the bible.
In Telephone Pictionary, everyone gets a piece of paper and a writing utensil. Each person writes a sentence on the top of his/her paper. Then, everyone passes the paper to the person on their left (if play is going counter-clockwise) or their right (if play is going clockwise). It is best to alternate from one game to the next which direction you are passing so as not to always end up having to interpret the sentence of the person to one side or the other.
After passing the paper, everyone draws a picture interpreting the sentence. Then, they fold the paper back so that the sentence is hidden and pass the paper, showing only the picture, to the next person. Now, everyone writes a sentence interpreting the picture that has been passed to them. Play continues in this way, with everyone receiving only a picture or a sentence to interpret through a sentence or a drawing, until each paper is once again in the hands of the originator.
This game is hilarious! Seriously. It does, however, require a minimum of 5 people to be truly effective.
Generally, by the time the originator gets his/her own paper back, the interpretation of the original sentence has become so convoluted, no one really knows how the original sentence read. Unfolding the paper and discovering how each step newly interpreted the previous step, and how each step was one step further removed from the original author's intent is really, really delightful.
Telephone Pictionary is the framework I use for thinking about the formation of the Bible. The original author(s) wrote something. It had a particular meaning in a particular culture. The meaning was pictured in the minds of the original readers in a way that might have been pretty accurate to the authors' intent. Over time, as the stories have been told, new layers of meaning have been applied. Over time, as the stories have been told, in new places, in new cultures, in new languages, those stories have been removed step by step from the original meaning of the text.
Ultimately, I think we might have a document that does not much resemble or effectively communicate the intent of the original authors. This isn't to say that the Bible is of no use to us today. The whole point of interpreting the Bible is discerning what these stories mean for us today. How do we, as a community in a new culture, speaking an entirely different language, make meaning from a text that is so far removed from its origins? That is, maybe, the best part of writing sermons.
I have some access through other sources to a cursory understanding of the cultures in which these texts were written. Sometimes, in the course of daily reading or intentional research, I'll come across a single sentence that illuminates a small aspect of 1st century Palestine, and it'll deepen, enrich, and transform my understanding of a given biblical pericope, making it alive and applicable in ways that light my faith on fire. It's fantastic!
But images of biblical formation aren't the point of this post. Which might seem ridiculous given the amount of space I've used to describe those images.
Nope, the point of this post is to process some of what I'm feeling about living with someone who is mentally ill.
I live with someone who does not communicate effectively. I do not know how much of this is a result of the mental illness and how much of it is a learned trait. In terms of communication, the individual in question is engaging in behaviors that mimic those which were modeled for him in childhood by his father, but with distinct differences.
Both the father and the son, at times, speak in riddles. Puzzles. Code, if you will, to which they alone (most of the time) have the key, and which they believe they alone (all of the time) can decipher. In the case of the father, there is a distinct attitude of intellectual superiority. It is an attitude that communicates a desire to frustrate and confuse others. For example, a note might be left on the refrigerator attached to a $5.00 bill. The note, however, will be written using only the first letter of each word.
For example:
DD,
PBOLOSGB.
T,
D
For those of you who don't read this type of code, it translates:
Dear Daughter,
Please buy one loaf of seven grain bread.
Thanks,
Dad
Any guesses out there as to what happens when the daughter to whom the note was addressed actually takes the $5.00 and returns home with a loaf of seven grain bread?
The father in question gets a look of disappointment that his note was understood and the request granted, and he then pouts for the rest of the evening.
It's a bit different in regards to the son. In the case of the individual with whom I live, there is no indication that the purpose of speaking in code is done to frustrate others. In fact, the person who gets most frustrated tends to be the individual himself. It's like he's speaking in a different language.
He makes statements or asks questions that do not provide enough information. When asked for clarifications, or when a person repeats what they understand him to be communicating and asks if they have it right, he insists that they are making it more difficult than necessary. He insists that he asked a simple question or made a simple statement. Except his understanding of "simple" often does not take into account culturally relevant understandings.
For example:
Today, he said, "I'm going for a four mile walk around [town]. Who wants to go with me?"
Now, the cultural understanding of "around [town]" is "from place to place in"; i.e. a four-mile walk around town would be a four mile walk from place to place in town.
This is where the confusion came in for me: the town in which we live has a 1/2 mile circumference. I wish I were kidding.
In trying to get a clear picture of where he would be walking, so as to be better prepared to decide whether or not to join him, I responded, "You're going to walk around town eight times?"
Him: "No. I'm going for a four mile walk around [town]."
Me: "Okay, but its only a half mile walk around [town], so, how..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "You're not listening to me! I said I'm going to walk around [town]!"
Me: "Okay, but..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "Look, as far as I know, if I take the blacktop, to the highway, turn right, walk up to the next gravel road, turn right, walk to the intersection of the next gravel road, turn right, walk to the next intersection, I'll be back to the blacktop, at which point, I'll turn right, and when I get home, I'll have walked 1 mile in each direction, and have walked four miles around town!"
Me: "Oh. So, you're going for a walk in the country..." interrupted by...
Him, yelling: "Just forget it! You never listen to me!"
I sometimes feel like I've been hijacked to crazy land, handed a ransom note, and the only way out is to interpret the note without any kind of a key. It's like trying to divine the intent of the original biblical authors without knowing biblical Hebrew, Greek, or Aramaic, and without any training whatsoever in ancient cultures. Sometimes, it just can't be done.
Not without a lot of yelling.
And see, that's the part that leaves me needing to blog about my frustrations. Not the fact that I've been hijacked to crazy land and constantly have to expend significant amounts of mental and emotional energy to understand anything this person says. It's the fact that because of his mental illness, he's volatile and unpredictable, with a history of violence.
Now, he hasn't demonstrated a tendency toward physical violence since he got clean and sober. So, I don't have any concerns for my physical safety. I just sometimes wish I could finish a sentence, to ensure that I understand what he's trying communicate without being interrupted and yelled at. Or, alternately, that he just wouldn't talk to me at all. Because, honestly, it's exhausting. And some days, I just do not have the energy.
Of course, I've told him this. Nothing changes. My only option, some days, is to stop what I'm doing and physically remove myself from an area. This is particularly frustrating if I'm trying to get work done on the computer or in the kitchen. Sometimes, I just can't stop working on a sermon--because I'm under a deadline. Sometimes, I just can't walk away from the kitchen--because if I leave a dish unattended it'll burn, and if I stop the process with the intent to return later, it'll be ruined. Something are just time-sensitive. And sometimes, I'm just tired.
And those seem to be the times when he comes in, most anxious, most unwilling to take "no" for answer, most unwilling to respect boundaries. Those are the times when I cannot give 100% of my attention and energy to figuring out what he's saying without asking any kind of clarifying questions. Those are the times when I need to remind myself that no matter how tempting the activity he's proffering might seem, "No," is always the best, most appropriate response. Because if I can't figure out immediately what he's talking about, asking questions might clarify things, but I'm going to get yelled at in the process.
Biblical interpretation and Telephone Pictionary are way more fun.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
On Being Salty
Isaiah 58:1-12
1 Corinthians 2:1-16
Matthew 5:13-20
*****
Salt, in small quantities, is necessary for all animal life. It regulates the balance of fluid in the body. Without salt in our diets, our cells would become flooded, diluting our electrolytes and slowing our neural transmissions. It all goes down hill from there, and it ends in death. Salt is necessary for life.
Salt is also an excellent method of food preservation, and was the primary way in which meats were kept prior to the invention of refrigerators and freezers. Salt has been produced as a good for over 8000 years. Archaeologists believe salt was being harvested from springs as far back as 6050 BCE.
Production of salt continues today. And in epic proportions. In 2002, world wide salt production tipped the scales at 210 million tons. That's 420 billion pounds of salt--or roughly 70 pounds of salt per person in the world.
Of course, we don't eat all of that salt. 82.5% of all salt produced today is used for purposes other than food: salt is used in pulp and paper production, setting dyes in textiles and fabrics, making soap, detergents, and cosmetics, and, of course, salt is used for melting snow and ice in the winter.
Salt is used in various religions for ritual purification, blessing, and preservation of the covenant in Judaism. It is the most oft mentioned food in the Bible, appearing 40 times in the King James Version.
Culinarily speaking, salt is used as a seasoning. It makes food taste better. It makes food taste more like itself. I remember, as a child, watching my grandfather sprinkle salt on watermelon and cantaloupe because it brought out and intensified the flavor of the fruit.
Salt is also one of the only four "tastes" for which the human tongue has receptors. And while there are many things that taste sweet, sour, or bitter (as experienced by the other three types of taste receptors), only salt tastes salty. Salt also interferes with the receptors in the tongue for bitterness. Find coffee too bitter? Not a fan of grapefruit because of the bitter overtones? Try a sprinkle of salt. It cuts the bitterness and allows other flavors to come to the fore.
And pair salt with something sweet? It's a winning combination every time.
In the gospel reading for today, Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth. Considering everything that salt does, this is significant. And in the save breath, Jesus warns us against salt losing its flavor. When salt is no longer salty, it is "no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot."
It's not enough to look like salt. TO actually be of any value, it has to taste salty--and only salt tastes salty.
Jesus is known for speaking in parables and riddles throughout the gospels. I think this is one of those times when he's using metaphor to make a point. After all, none of us is made entirely of salt. And the only person in the Bible to be turned entirely into salt--Lot's wife--ended up that way because she disobeyed God.
I think what it means to be the salt of the earth and how salt can lose its saltiness is founder later in our gospel reading, and earlier in Isaiah.
Jesus tells us that "unless [our] righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, [we] will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
The Pharisees in 1st century Israel were the authorized teachers of the Law. They had succeeded the priests who had become ineffective. The Pharisees saturated every aspect of life--influencing the Sanhedrin (which was kind of like the U.S. Supreme Court), holding power in the synagogues (places of worship), and in the schools.
Though the Pharisees were lay officials, they were experts in the Law who acted as power brokers between the aristocracy and the masses. The Pharisees were focused primarily on ritual purity.
The scribes were an elite class of individuals from many corners of Jewish life. So named because they were among the few who were literate in the 1st century, the scribes were teachers of the Law. They also interpreted the Law in new circumstances, and served as lawyers, theologians, guardians of tradition, and curators of the text.
The scribes and the Pharisees were the keepers of Old Testament traditions. They held to the peoples' fast described in Isaiah--seeking God and claiming to delight in God's ways, while forsaking God's ordinances; they fasted but did not see; they fasted "only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist." They served their own interests and oppressed all their workers.
Being salt of the earth, a salt which is salty, means holding to the heart of the Law, rather than the letter of the Law. It means choosing the fast that God chooses: loosing the bonds of injustice, undoing the thongs of the yoke, letting the oppressed go free, and breaking every yoke.
Being the salt of the earth means sharing your bread with the hungry, bringing the homeless poor into your home, and clothing the naked.
I also believe, though, that being the salt of the earth means choosing to act in ways similar to the rock salt.
We should bring flavor to life! We should make life taste better. We should melt the cold around us, bringing warmth and safety everywhere we go. And we should deter bitterness, making things sweeter wherever we find ourselves.
Paul writes a bit about this in 1 Corinthians--how we are to bring the light of Christ into the word--"not with lofty words or wisdom...but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power."
I think he actually says it better, though, in Colossians:
"Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way that you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversations be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone."
"Let your conversations be always full of grace, seasoned with salt...."
Seasoning our words with grace is one way we can be salt and light to the world everyday.
When we choose to be salt and light--removing the yoke, the pointing finger, the speaking of evil; offering food to the hungry and satisfying the needs of the afflicted, seasoning our conversations with grace--the Lord promises to guide us continually, to satisfy our needs, and make our bones strong. we will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.
Today, may you be salt and light to all your encounter, and may God meet your needs as you meet the needs of others.
*****
Just for fun, as a practical application for being "salt of the earth," during the children's sermon, I had the kids hand out the salt caramels I'd spent the last two days making. SO! MUCH! FUN!
1 Corinthians 2:1-16
Matthew 5:13-20
*****
Salt, in small quantities, is necessary for all animal life. It regulates the balance of fluid in the body. Without salt in our diets, our cells would become flooded, diluting our electrolytes and slowing our neural transmissions. It all goes down hill from there, and it ends in death. Salt is necessary for life.
Salt is also an excellent method of food preservation, and was the primary way in which meats were kept prior to the invention of refrigerators and freezers. Salt has been produced as a good for over 8000 years. Archaeologists believe salt was being harvested from springs as far back as 6050 BCE.
Production of salt continues today. And in epic proportions. In 2002, world wide salt production tipped the scales at 210 million tons. That's 420 billion pounds of salt--or roughly 70 pounds of salt per person in the world.
Of course, we don't eat all of that salt. 82.5% of all salt produced today is used for purposes other than food: salt is used in pulp and paper production, setting dyes in textiles and fabrics, making soap, detergents, and cosmetics, and, of course, salt is used for melting snow and ice in the winter.
Salt is used in various religions for ritual purification, blessing, and preservation of the covenant in Judaism. It is the most oft mentioned food in the Bible, appearing 40 times in the King James Version.
Culinarily speaking, salt is used as a seasoning. It makes food taste better. It makes food taste more like itself. I remember, as a child, watching my grandfather sprinkle salt on watermelon and cantaloupe because it brought out and intensified the flavor of the fruit.
Salt is also one of the only four "tastes" for which the human tongue has receptors. And while there are many things that taste sweet, sour, or bitter (as experienced by the other three types of taste receptors), only salt tastes salty. Salt also interferes with the receptors in the tongue for bitterness. Find coffee too bitter? Not a fan of grapefruit because of the bitter overtones? Try a sprinkle of salt. It cuts the bitterness and allows other flavors to come to the fore.
And pair salt with something sweet? It's a winning combination every time.
In the gospel reading for today, Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth. Considering everything that salt does, this is significant. And in the save breath, Jesus warns us against salt losing its flavor. When salt is no longer salty, it is "no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot."
It's not enough to look like salt. TO actually be of any value, it has to taste salty--and only salt tastes salty.
Jesus is known for speaking in parables and riddles throughout the gospels. I think this is one of those times when he's using metaphor to make a point. After all, none of us is made entirely of salt. And the only person in the Bible to be turned entirely into salt--Lot's wife--ended up that way because she disobeyed God.
I think what it means to be the salt of the earth and how salt can lose its saltiness is founder later in our gospel reading, and earlier in Isaiah.
Jesus tells us that "unless [our] righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, [we] will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
The Pharisees in 1st century Israel were the authorized teachers of the Law. They had succeeded the priests who had become ineffective. The Pharisees saturated every aspect of life--influencing the Sanhedrin (which was kind of like the U.S. Supreme Court), holding power in the synagogues (places of worship), and in the schools.
Though the Pharisees were lay officials, they were experts in the Law who acted as power brokers between the aristocracy and the masses. The Pharisees were focused primarily on ritual purity.
The scribes were an elite class of individuals from many corners of Jewish life. So named because they were among the few who were literate in the 1st century, the scribes were teachers of the Law. They also interpreted the Law in new circumstances, and served as lawyers, theologians, guardians of tradition, and curators of the text.
The scribes and the Pharisees were the keepers of Old Testament traditions. They held to the peoples' fast described in Isaiah--seeking God and claiming to delight in God's ways, while forsaking God's ordinances; they fasted but did not see; they fasted "only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist." They served their own interests and oppressed all their workers.
Being salt of the earth, a salt which is salty, means holding to the heart of the Law, rather than the letter of the Law. It means choosing the fast that God chooses: loosing the bonds of injustice, undoing the thongs of the yoke, letting the oppressed go free, and breaking every yoke.
Being the salt of the earth means sharing your bread with the hungry, bringing the homeless poor into your home, and clothing the naked.
I also believe, though, that being the salt of the earth means choosing to act in ways similar to the rock salt.
We should bring flavor to life! We should make life taste better. We should melt the cold around us, bringing warmth and safety everywhere we go. And we should deter bitterness, making things sweeter wherever we find ourselves.
Paul writes a bit about this in 1 Corinthians--how we are to bring the light of Christ into the word--"not with lofty words or wisdom...but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power."
I think he actually says it better, though, in Colossians:
"Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way that you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversations be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone."
"Let your conversations be always full of grace, seasoned with salt...."
Seasoning our words with grace is one way we can be salt and light to the world everyday.
When we choose to be salt and light--removing the yoke, the pointing finger, the speaking of evil; offering food to the hungry and satisfying the needs of the afflicted, seasoning our conversations with grace--the Lord promises to guide us continually, to satisfy our needs, and make our bones strong. we will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.
Today, may you be salt and light to all your encounter, and may God meet your needs as you meet the needs of others.
*****
Just for fun, as a practical application for being "salt of the earth," during the children's sermon, I had the kids hand out the salt caramels I'd spent the last two days making. SO! MUCH! FUN!
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