Friday, September 28, 2012

What we need to learn from TV we don't

Usually, when people talk about learning from tv - especially when Christians do - we talk about what we shouldn't be learning. We criticize tv for its approach to sex and sexual ethics. We blame society's violence on it. Shows are depraved, and making us depraved. We fail to learn about consequences. The list goes on and on. The moral of the complaint is simple, don't get your morals from the television.

But what might be most interesting, is that for years shows - both serious and comedic - have often carried themes we ought to consider in our society. There is something quite real that we see regularly, never question (because we know it's true) and yet never claim as truth for us. I'm talking of course about guilt - real guilt, from real mistakes, sins, hurts, actions. Perhaps what these shows do so well is they are willing to put the main character out there as guilty of an offense of some sort. Now some shows will week by week focus on how the person will get in a jam and get out of it (this is especially true of 30min comedies), while others they face the gritty reality that their immorality has unavoidable consequences. That it catches up. Usually they are preserved from total destruction (since one needs to keep the show), but one is seriously flawed and forced to face that.

What shows like this do, is they make the character usually come to admit that they have been the transgressor. And even those where the character is in denial, the omnipotent viewer knows what they have done. Even when Vic Mackey gets off the hook from something in the Shield, we know he is a dirty cop. The characters are exposed in some way or another for who they are. It doesn't matter if it's Zack Morris and Will Smith from simple comedies like Saved By the Bell and Fresh Prince of Bel Air or brutally flawed jerk-type characters like Tony Soprano or Dennis Leary's character in Rescue Me, in all these situations the main character is often a key transgressor. The comedies often require the character to come clean, the serious ones often are about avoiding coming clean. But in all of them, they are thoroughly exposed. Both types carry a similar morality: coming clean is the right move. Trying to hide it will either inevitably fail or lead one down the depraved rabbit hole.

Yet this constant moral refrain is highly ignored in discussions about the moral role or impact of television. Perhaps it is ignored because though we agree with it in principle, it is the one lesson we never seek to learn for ourselves. Why is it I ask, that our inclination is to always move the blame for problems in this life on others? It is never our fault (or our childrens' fault) but always someone else. We always seek to be the victim never the transgressor.

I think it is for two reasons: the first is that we think no one knows. We think it is a secret that can be kept, and when it comes out we dodge it, resist it, and point the finger elsewhere in order to preserve this illusion. Whereas in the show where no matter what, the viewers know who this guy is, we don't have that. Or so we think. This is why confession is a key role in the Christian tradition, because there is someone who knows, and it is precisely when one realizes there is no hiding from this righteous judge that any notion of portraying oneself to be perfect, up to the standard, not all that bad begins to fade.

The other reason is the issue of forgiveness. If Zack Morris constantly caused so many screw ups in our lives, how much patience and forgiveness would we have for him? Forgiveness has by and large become something one must deserve - and therefore it only applies to things little enough that they are easily a thing of the past. The transgressions that really need forgiveness are usually the ones our culture has determined as undeserving of and therefore, unforgivable. Once forgiveness is something that must be earned, and only for little things, it is no surprise that we would work hard to not relinquish our good image. We don't admit (even to ourselves) when we were guilty because we cannot imagine being forgiven. Not only that, but it would damage our future ability to earn forgiveness by hurting our false image of being deserving of it. This is why the cross is so central to Christian confession, it means God does forgive, we not only open up because we know there is no hiding from God, but because we know that we can flee to God's mercy; that the forgiveness we don't "deserve" was secured. Similar to how a show can have Zack fess up because the writers have seen to it that his friends will forgive him - the cross has seen to it that there is forgiveness.

It is as 1 John says: "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us, but if we confess our sin, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

TV shows often lift up a willingness to forgive, or at the least expose the characters with all their flaws. This is the lesson that has not been learned by the viewers, even though many shows are literally built off of this pattern, our culture has by and large denied this moral ethic. One which Christianity not only holds to, but explains in light of the reality of God and the cross. But even Christian preaching and application often tries to soften this (especially post-conversion), and either use the word sin generically or address more the sins of the world rather than our own. We still do the finger pointing elsewhere. We preach in generalizations that let us wiggle out of the hard truth. But these fictional stories ought to remind us of the reality that needs to be faced: when our sins, our faults, our mistakes change our lives or the lives around us for the worse, covering this up will do one no good. This is not just a moral ethic, but actually a realization of the illusion we try to live by, and the reality that cries out for a Savior.

C.S. Lewis once wrote: "It is after you have realized that there is a real Moral Law, and a Power behind the law, and that you have broken that law and put yourself wrong with that power--it is after all this, and not a moment sooner, that Christianity begins to talk."
That is to say, it is after one realizes they are the character, and there is a viewer, it is then that one begins to realize this message of confession and forgiveness is no simple ritual or crutch or enabler, it is the the story of the viewer (God) not sitting back and watching, but stepping in with the one word that can truly sustain us in this reality show we call life.

Yet it's like a parable that no one ever applies to us as the prophet Nathan "You are the man". And until it does, while it is left to our own watching with no one to speak the truth to us, it will likely always remain the lesson we see but never apply to ourselves. The one thing we won't let the television teach us.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Mailbag: Superheroes and other junk mail

Since no one left any comments in last week's mailbag, I will have to provide the fodder for this week's edition of the mailbag. If you don't like it, then start posting questions. Until that happens, you're stuck with the armchair junk mail.

Dear Armchair Theologian,
if you were a superhero, what would your name  and superpower be?

A lot can go into a superhero name, but too much thought is just not wise either. I mean really, you either have to think of a really awesome name that fits (like Flash or Hulk) or a simple name that simply works (Batman, Superman, Spiderman, etc.). But you also don't want a name that just wreaks of unawesome because it will definitely cost you in the popularity book down the road. Because there is a delicate line between Aquaman and Batman, Thing and Hulk. One stinks, and one is both obvious and awesome. Rule #2 is that you don't ever want to use "boy" in your title. Superboy, Boy Wonder, etc. They're like the baby muppets, good for their limited age group but quickly outgrown (whereas other comic book superheros I may never outgrow).

To allow for a backstory to my superhero name, it should fit somewhat in my own backstory as an armchair theologian. AcademiaMan sounds like Aquaman's nerdy brother, so we're gonna scratch that off the list. Since my church body both ordains women and has taken to neutering just about anyone in our hymnody, I imagine Pastorman just would not be appropriate. It would either suggest I was making a statement against women's ordination, which would be inaccurate and therefore confusing, or my church would refer to me as Pastorperson, which is just too long of a name and far less cool sounding. Thus Pastorman is out too. Instead, I think I'll take a lesson from the Flash's book and go by "The Rev". It embodies the Reverend, but at the same time has that extra hint of sexy to it. And it can come with an awesome backstory--during my ordination I actually undergo an ontological change during the laying on of hands. Maybe like the hulk who turns into green madness when he gets angry or stressed, when I'm preaching or administering the sacraments I get all aflame with the Spirit, and sortof like how some superheros change into their costumes, I transfigure into mine. As to my powers: well I definitely want to be able to slay bad guys in the Spirit. And since comic books are darker these days to keep up with their aging readers, I imagine I'll be battling some demons so you know I think I want to claim the promise of Mark 16 to help describe my powers: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.
So there you have it, along with the ability to slay in the Spirit, I can drive out demons in Jesus' name, speak any language, and heal people. And the Rev is impervious to snakes and poison. And to top it off he's biblically grounded (aside from the whole ontological change part, but it is a comic book after all). Hey DC, wanna buy the rights to "The Rev" now, or you gonna wait and risk Marvel scooping me up?

Dear Armchair Theologian, 
What's your favorite hymn?
Totally unfair question for me to ask myself for several reasons:
1) I'm a hymnwriter and therefore a bit biased towards my own work. Fun fact btw, my newest hymn is about to be sung for the 60th anniversary of a church I used to serve at. It was written by the organist and I and will premiere this Sunday.
2) I'm a bit of a liturgist and therefore want hymns to also fit the situation and the text, and therefore the answer changes from Sunday to Sunday
3) If you consider #1 and #2 the current answer would then logically be the hymn for that church's Anniversary service "Our Redeemer Our Cry!"
4) Other hymns that I sing for fun or get giddy over even at inappropriate seasons include: From Heaven Above to Earth I Come, Alas and Did My Savior Bleed, For All the Saints, Abide with Me, Christ has Arisen Alleluia, Jesus Christ has Risen Today, A Mighty Fortress, and All Creatures of Our God and King

Of your a praise bander, I'll throw some love out to "In Christ Alone"

Dear Armchair Theologian, 
My kid has never seen any of the Star Wars movies, what order should I introduce them in?
I'm glad I asked myself this question, because the truth is I had been asking myself this question for years and I wondered how I would introduce my children whom I may one day have to Star Wars. And the question was recently and quite definitively answered for me here with the Machete Order. To sum it up quick you do it IV, V, II, III, VI and I is removed from the Saga and seen as an extra piece of the greater universe of Star Wars entertainment. When I read this article to my wife she insisted we immediately begin watching now in this order and in our home, this is the order we consider the movies to be in.

Well I guess that's a wrap folks. If you wanted better material, post questions in the comment section and I may feature them in my next Mailbag. Otherwise get used to the junk mail.
If you have a question or dilemma (real or otherwise, serious or comic book material) for the Armchair Theologian, please leave it in the comment section, and perhaps you will be answered in a future blog.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Mailbag: scripture and gorillas

  A Chance for the Armchair Theologian to Weigh in on the Most Pressing Dilemmas
Last week we had the first installment of my "Mailbag" blog where I take up issues and questions, some real some made up. At the end I invite readers to share their own questions/dilemmas (real or made up). Well today I shall answer the two posted questions, in order to set the record straight. So without further ado here is my newest mailbag answering the newest ponderings on your minds:


Dear Armchair Theologian,
must a Christian Church adhere to the inerrant nature of scripture in order to remain Christian?


The short answer my anonymous rabble rouser is no. The real issue at hand is not words one apply to scripture but how one uses and approaches it. Granted these words/phrases impact how we approach it, but do not make one a Christian; Christ does that. The need to use phrases like inerrant or infallible when speaking of scripture is a rather modern invention as a response to a rather modern problem (biblical criticism). But the answer to the nature of scripture can mean little in reality. It does no good to say that the Bible is the inerrant, infallible, inspired, authoritative Word of God and then let it collect dust on a shelf, or daydream during the reading of scripture on Sunday morning. On the flip side, I knew someone who said he did not believe scripture was God's word, something I took offense to, and still count him wrong on that account--but I will say this: not only did he know scripture, but it was quite authoritative to him, and he did not say that to move away from scripture. For someone who held it not to be God's Word he sure treated it with far more devotion than most people who would declare you unChristian if you had such a belief. 

But not only is it important to realize that such words can mean little towards how one approaches it, I would also note that the issue of inerrancy also identifies the core problem as what happened when scripture was written, not what it means for us today. As a response to a hermeneutic that directly challenged scripture in terms of history, authorship, and development--the response was to respond with a word that defined approaching scripture in a means that would by definition, keep such methodologies out. But all the while it is still locked in debates about then. As such, the conversation is not about how the voice of scripture still speaks, but about what it already said. And this is why we can approach scripture really well or really poorly, even when we use (or never use) such words as infallible and inerrant; because until the conversation is about this word acting authoritatively on us, we are talking about scripture's "authority" as an idea not as a reality upon us. And the truth is, I have seen many people, who have even denied the infallibility of scripture, be absolutely captivated in it, and more than that, find Christ within it. I understand the concern that creates words like inerrant, because we want to trust this word. But the Spirit can do that, and Christ can be found within it and speak from it by his own authority, not the authority we place upon it. And so our focus ought to be to approach the Word that it may work, because that happens to us when it is proclaimed. As the Apostle says, "Faith comes from what is heard." 

People can trust Christ, be transformed, find life, and be led by this word simply because to borrow from God's own book, it is what it is. And it simply is.
So don't slap a stamp on the Bible and think that makes you a Christian, let the Bible slap its word on you, because it is from the mouth of God, the Word, Christ--that makes us Christians. All we have to do is stay out of his way. For over a thousand years the church was making Christians without using the word inerrant. Some may argue that they still believed that, which may make for an interesting discussion. But the point is they could regard it as authoritative, or more specifically, the word was used authoritatively upon them without that word. 


BTW, I serve in a church that chooses to use the word "inspired" but not "inerrant" when describing scripture as God's word. While it can open us up to wider uses of scripture I may not always be in favor of, I still believe Christ is there, that he still makes it the church, I am still a member of it. So if my church thinks it can be church without that word, did ya ever really think I was gonna answer a question of whether one must use the word inerrant with yes?

Your fellow Christian,

The Armchair Theologian

Well that was a big (and yet far too short) answer to a question loaded with lots of baggage. But since we only had two questions last week I can still answer the other one.
________________________________________________________

Armchair Theologian,

it was a dark and stormy night when my house was broken into by a pack of gorillas who speak sign language. They broke in so that they could evangelize to me in sign language, but were heavily offended when I suggested that gorillas could not be Christians. Then they beat me to a pulp. So I'm asking you, could those gorillas truly be Christians? 

Charlie Hess



Charlie,
could those gorillas be Christian? Well that depends. Did they happen to mention whether or not they adhere to the inerrant nature of scripture?
Since I imagine getting jumped by a gang of proselytizing gorillas involves hospital stays and lots of recovery time, I'm gonna recommend a book for this current debate. I recommend Mark Schweizer's book The Bass Wore Scales. This 5th installment in his series of liturgical mysteries features within it, the debate of whether a gorilla can profess Christ, and whether such Christ professing gorillas need to be baptized. Along with this ever pressing issue, it is incredibly funny. You can find it along with his other awesome mysteries here, I would highly recommend it. In fact, I was rereading his first mystery today. And when finished will likely do a review in my blog, because other people need to have as much fun as I do reading.

Let me finish today's mailbag with some lessons to be learned from your unfortunate experience:
1. it might be in one's best interest to listen when someone evangelizes, the consequences of dismissing such a message could be severe, especially when it comes from a pack of silver-back gorillas.
2. Quote planet of the Apes as often as possible in such a situation, it just makes the retelling far more entertaining.
3. beating people up is bad evangelization. I never once saw any indication that this led you closer to Christ.
4. Finally, don't make the mistake of judging the faith of others. Believe it or not, gorillas are not the only ones whom we say could not...or does not, believe. Too often we think we know the heart. it's not our business to determine who has faith, its only our business to do our best to nurture faith. Such statements are often born out of a pious ignorance and as you have now learned, are completely offensive. 

Let Christ be the judge, since he's coming again to do that anyways. In the meantime, recover well with a good book and a lesson learned. 
Your fellow primate in Christ,

The Armchair Theologian



If you have a question, story, or dilemma for the Armchair Theologian, no matter how controversial or untrue, you may leave it in the comment section. It just might be your question that makes a future mailbag.

Friday, September 14, 2012

The Christ-Figure of Harry Potter?

Lately, I have a hard time not seeing sermons and theology within movies. Sometimes it is really obvious, sometimes not. But it happens. Today is one of the more interesting thoughts that come to mind. The struggle first came when I read about a Harry Potter Theology Class at Yale. The Harry Potter series has a lot of themes that can be discussed on a theological level including atonement, good vs. evil, and hope. At one point or another I may in fact get to these in a blog of their own. But today I wanted to mention the struggle that was noted in the challenge of a Harry Potter theology course: who is the God figure? Perhaps the most compelling answer provided within the reading is that it was not a character, but love. I think there is a great case for that, and I think it would speak to a modern appeal to understanding the divine--as love, ethereal, with intent yet not a being (and possessing no anthropomorphizational qualities). Divinity as almost a law of nature or driving force. Today however I would like to pose a God-figure, or more specifically a Christ-figure from the Harry Potter series. And likewise, I do not think it is a person.

This came while I was watching the second installment: Chamber of Secrets. It is in this book/movie that this character has its greatest role (although he does make appearances later). I am speaking of course about Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. Interestingly enough, this bird may carry more Christ-like qualities than any human in the Harry Potter series. Let me now present to you reasons why Fawkes in my view is the best comparison to Christ (if you need to know--there may be some spoilers):
  • Well let's start off with an easy one shall we, he is a resurrection bird! Fawkes has to die and rise up out of the ashes, it is part of his life cycle. And he goes from looking terrible to a new life. Think of Christ's own resurrection, how beaten he must have been by his death (suffering scourging, crown of thorns, bearing of the cross, piercing from nails/spear) and how upon his resurrection Mary and the disciples on the road to Emmaus did not even recognize him at first. But the centrality of resurrection in the bird's life cycle is an obvious relation.
  • Phoenixes carry heavy loads. Christ himself tells those who are weary to come to him and he will give them rest. He carries us through life (any footprints in the sand fans out there), and carries the cross that bears upon it the sins of the world. Specifically in the movie this ability to carry allows Fawkes to be the one who brings them up from the Chamber of Secrets, I can hear the psalmist (30) "you brought my soul up from Sheol" or Jonah's psalm "you brought my life up from the pit". This ability to bear loads allows Fawkes to be their rescuer, and bring them where they could not otherwise go ("I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." John 14.3).
  • Fawkes uses his tears to heal Harry. There are three things that can be said here: first is the ability to heal (a prominent feature in Christ's own ministry), but also that the healing comes with the physical exchange of the Phoenix's tears. Jesus never cried into wounds but he did have a tendency to spit on people as part of the healing. Just this last Sunday we read about how Jesus spit on a mute man's tongue (Mark 7.33). Finally may be the fact that the healing tears deliver Harry from death. It reminds me of John 11 when Christ cries at Lazarus' grave, but then delivers him from death. In that instance however it was not Christ's tears but his command "Lazarus, come out!" But the whole scene of tears, healing, deliverance--they carry themes and definitely resemble scenes within the gospel narratives.
  • Fawkes comes to save Harry from the Basilisk. Not only does he descend the Chamber of Secrets (Christ's descent anyone?) but there is actually something to be said that his arrival is specifically to face the Basilisk, the ultimate serpent. What is considered perhaps the first prophecy concerning Christ is the words of the woman's offspring against the serpent. In Genesis 3 it says "he will crush your head." Fawkes attack against the Basilisk is to tear out its eyes. This little bird (who Voldemort notes is a poor match for the basilisk) goes for the head. The popular image of Christ crushing the serpent under his heel is mirrored by the phoenix attacking the serpent's head with his feet/talons. Also of note is the way Fawkes changes the entire nature of the battle against Harry. It went from seeming like Harry--without his wand--was powerless against the power of Slytherin's heir and the serpent. But for the most part the basilisk is rendered powerless against this bird. He tears out his eyes, the basilisk's main weapon. But even then it still wages battle against Harry. It seems poisonous, and therefore still lethal. But the bird counters the venom's sting with the healing tears. Thus what seemed still dangerous is actually far less. This is a great theme of Revelation: evil appears to be winning/foreboding but in fact has already lost. The devil has lost his powers against us. Furthermore, in this battle Harry also receives the sorting hat from Fawkes, which gives him the sword of Gryffindor with which he can fight. Similar to Christ bringing us as Ephesians puts it "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" by which one's defense comes.
  • Fawkes also arrives to aid Dumbledore against Voldemort in the Order of the Phoenix. Once again the Phoenix is becoming the great aid for those in danger. Since we thoroughly covered that theme in Fawkes' coming to Harry's aid, I won't go further, but thought it was worth noting. However, along with the notion of coming to the aid, there is a particularly interesting event that takes place in his aiding Dumbledore in the duel: Fawkes takes the killing curse for Dumbledore. Like Christ taking the death and the curse for us, and overcoming it, Fawkes does the same here. A very powerful Christ-image indeed.
  • The name "Order of the Phoenix" is itself perhaps noteworthy. Those who resist evil, and stand opposed to Voldemort (i.e. the good guys) utlimately rally behind the name/image of the Phoenix. I do not recall if the reasoning for the name is ever mentioned in the books. And while I don't think it is wise to call the church the "good guys" against the "bad guys" in the same dualistic sense, there is definitely the idea of the church being gathered around and by goodness, namely God's. Bo Giertz said that the words "church" and "Christ" are so connected they are in fact interchangeable, that is what the church is: The body of Christ--the order of the Phoenix?
  • Fawkes' "final scene" or moment is when he sings a lament at Dumbledore's death. Then he disappears and is never seen. I can't make much of the song of lament, but let me note that the bird flies away like Christ's ascension. A bit of a stretch, but to some extent I think a lot of this is. More on that later. The phoenix's song is given some note within the story and if I remember magical ability to comfort and strengthen. Such would be quite similar to Christ's own words, which hold power themselves when spoken.
  • While preparing for this I did a quick search of Fawkes' name because I could not remember how to spell it, and Harry Potter Wikia notes that it was Fawkes' feather that was the core for Harry and Voldemort's wands. I note this because there is an interesting occurrance in the final book. When Harry is practically unconscious and Voldemort is coming to kill him when the Order moves him from the Dersley's place Harry's wand reacts and saves him. To my memory the event is never explained. Harry seeks an explanation but people keep telling him that wands don't just cast spells on their own like that. Perhaps the tail feather of Fawkes may be the explanation--like Christ, the ascension is not the end of his presence, connection, or help for us. But it continues. Like baptism which binds us to Christ, so does his tail feather. This here is all speculation. But perhaps the moment of great hopelessness in book seven is when Harry's wand is broken. Additionally, at the book's conclusion (not the movie's) Harry uses the "greatest" of wands, the Elder Wand, to repair his own. Having that wand was what he preferred. Likewise, baptism, faith, these things are not the most "powerful" or "greatest" things, and yet to those who know what they have--and the dynamic of that relationship, similar to the relationship a wizard has to his wand--it is a far greater treasure. A promise worth returning to, a faith worth mending more than the many other things that would say "me over Christ".
 Returning to the fact that this is a stretch; is that it is. Bottom line is this, it is no perfect comparison. And I'm not sure it was meant to be. J.K. Rowling has mentioned that her faith did leak themes and aspects into her story, but she tried not too make it too explicit and to my knowledge she has not commented on it further than saying it played a role. She never directly identified what parts were. My point here is not to say she intended to make Fawkes the Christ figure. My only point is that she did. That the phoenix carries both powers, actions, and a symbolism--especially in the Chamber of Secrets--where one could argue the Phoenix is the Christ figure. 

This should also be said, it is true that it is not merely Fawkes but "phoenix" that carries much of this. The power of the phoenix and the image/title of the Order of the Phoenix could be broadened. But Rowling chose to have Fawkes as the Phoenix we meet. The term Messiah/anointed one/Christ is used earlier in scripture, and even applied to others than just Jesus. But not only is Jesus the Christ, but it is also how his specific story redefined the nature of Christ. It was his specific work of deliverance and salvation and forgiveness for us to where most Christians would never refer to Saul, God's anointed, as Saul Christ (in fact, I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone do that). But he was, so much so that David regularly emphasized it. So too, there may be other phoenixes, but none ultimately have the claim to the story of Fawkes, who goes down, rescues, raises people from the pit, puts the serpent under his foot, renders him powerless, delivers us without Harry's knowing. So it is with Jesus. There may have been other anointed ones, but none who healed, came down, rescued, raised us up, crushed the serpent, rendered him powerless, and delivers us still often without our even realizing or acknowledging it was him. That's why when we say we're the church of Christ, we don't mean any other one but Jesus.

Now it's not a perfect fit. Harry is still the "hero", he still defeats Voldemort, Fawkes does little else for anyone else, not too mention he's a bird (throwing incarnation out the door). He never was a human--but neither was Azlon. So he's in good company. Having seen the movies many times and read the books a couple times he's my pick for the best bet of a Christ figure in Harry Potter. Who's yours?

Armchair note: For those interested, I have further discussions around Christ figures (namely Harry) when I receive a question about it in a mailbag which can be found here.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Still choosing favorites: James 2

Instead of working off of the NRSV (the standard translation I work with since that is basically the one my church uses) today I'm going to work with the Common English Bible (CEB) because I think this translation has a better grasp of James than most, and is really helpful for the modern Christian. So coming from the CEB I'd like to say a few things about last Sunday's reading from James 2.1-5:

My brothers and sisters, when you show favoritism you deny the faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has been resurrected in glory. Imagine two people coming into your meeting. One has a gold ring and fine clothes, while the other is poor, dressed in filthy rags. Then suppose that you were to take special notice of the one wearing fine clothes, saying, "Here's an excellent place. Sit here." But to the poor person you say, "Stand over there"; or, "Here, sit at my feet." Wouldn't you have shown favoritism among yourselves and become evil-minded judges? My dear brothers and sisters, listen! Hasn't God chosen those who are poor by worldly standards to be rich in terms of faith? Hasn't God chosen the poor as heirs of the kingdom he has promised to those who love him?

Now when asked most would agree with this. But what James is speaking about is still a regular issue in the church, namely, that we judge who should get our hospitality. In practice, we utterly stink at being "welcoming" to those we don't want to welcome. Some churches are good at being "outgoing" and mistake this for welcoming. But in reality it simply means we are more willing to talk to one another, even those we don't know. However, in the end, we're still only engaging those we want to engage. We are reaching out to those we see as peers or assetts. And the stranger, creepier, and less helpful/valuable the visitor is to us, the less likely we are to approach him/her, be hospitable, care about his/her life, and truly be grateful in the Lord for this person's presence.

James addresses this around approaching the wealthy, cleaned up person as opposed to the poor and dirty. I've certainly seen this. Churches that want more leadership, giving, and are filled with generally middle class people see said people either consciously or unconsciously as valuable and approachable. I was a leader in a congregation that was like this, where the welcome was amazing to a wide number of people: those who reflected the neighborhood's diversity, the middle class, the young, etc. But for several weeks we had an older women, who smelled and wore the same clothes each Sunday. The only time any member even mentioned noticing this person who had attended several weeks was when she answered her phone in the middle of the service. I never once saw any of the people talking to her, welcoming her, sitting by her. She amazed me in her persistence in coming back each week. Having met with her many times through the weeks I knew some of her story, and so I imagine she was so used to rejection she did not even notice it. But I saw it.

This same kind of favoritism happens in other ways: when we see youth or minorities as assets that will make our church look more diverse or alive. When we think we need that, we treat them differently. And we don't treat them with that honor out of Christian hospitality but out of a worldly partiality. That is perhaps the most interesting thing about this passage that we can forget, it is not just the poor one we ignore, but the rich one we favor who is not being entreated by the law of love or the freedom of the Gospel, instead it is out of a selfish desire to have this person in the church that we would be welcoming to them. Someone once told me when I visited his church that he wanted to know who I was because I came to church in a 3-piece suit. Now on one hand I imagine that was a means of breaking the ice and complimenting my dress, but what else does that say? Or more specifically, had I not worn that suit that Sunday morning, would he still have introduced himself to me.

And while we treat these people like the furniture that perfectly orders a congregation's feng shui, we likewise then turn our backs on those who just aren't going to contribute. Everyone might want to say they don't do it, but we ought to face this honestly. There are people who we ignore, and people who we don't. I've spent this blog talking about the way I've witnessed favoritism, but not how I have. So let me be personal here, the reason I don't have good examples is because I ignored some so much I cannot remember who they are. That is precisely what James is speaking about, and that is precisely what we as a church need to avoid. Our own cries for self-survival can drown out the people in our midst who we see more as a cancer than a fellow member of the body of Christ. And this is not just for visitors, but becomes a culture of clicks and friends. Of the "brothers and sisters" and then the faces we see each week but have no part of and care nothing for. 

Treating people well out of selfishness or ignoring those we want no part of is a real part of our church, because it is a real part of our humanity that we have illadvisedly carried into Christ's body. This sin we bring into the church, we must let it be crucified. But that is why this is such a dangerous sin, because the partiality can alienate people from the gospel, or draw people into something other than the gospel. James when he challenges this, reminds us that the gospel is different. That election is Christ's choosing, and its choice can make the poorest, raggiest, stinkiest woman rich in faith. It gives all of Christ for nothing. As such it is for this reason, for all Christ brings, that those who bring nothing absolutely belong. And it is for this reason we ought be careful of how in favoring those who by worldly standards bring much we can end up lifting up what they are bringing over what Christ is bringing. 

But weigh any pearl, any skill, any dress against the kingdom of God and it will be clear what the church needs, and which inheritance matters. Our gathering and hospitality rests on these words "Hasn't God chosen..." because it rests on the kingdom he gives, the grace he brings, and his choice to bring it here to us...all of us.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Mailbag: alb stain dilemma

Another fun feature in my blog is my mailbag, where I get to answer questions/issues (real or imaginary) all for the sake of entertainment, and of course my readers' benefit. After all, what I write is on the internet, and is therefore as infallible as the Pope's fat cat Augustine the Hippo. So here is the first installment of the Armchair Mailbag:
__________________________________________________________________________________


Dear Armchair Theologian,

HELP! I've been trying the Liturgical Weight loss Regiment, which includes jogging in an alb as the extra weight and warmth increases the exercise and perspiration. It really works--5lbs in one week and I can partake in all the communion services I want! But as I was jogging this morning I made a rather high step and snagged the bottom of the alb. Needless to say I went flying--right into the grass. I skinned my leg--dripping blood all on the inside of my Alb and now have an enormously large grass stain going down the front. I can't seem to wash the stains out...WHAT CAN I DO?

In Christ,

Pastor Albert Bleacher

___________________________________________________________________________________

Dear ALBert,

Ironic first name there chap. But as to your dilemma, there is a quick and easy solution: Do nothing...for now. My friend you suffered this liturgical exercise disaster at the best time of the year to do it; when the liturgical colors match the stain on your alb. Since the season after Pentecost (or if you're lame we'll call it 'ordinary time') utilizes the color green you are in the clear. You might consider falling the other way so your stains form a cross down the middle of your alb. It'll look like Friar Tuck's newest bad idea: crosses smeared in a bad fashion down the middle. The critics will never suspect you and the artsy types will probably offer to buy you the blue set for Advent. Even better, on Reformation Sunday you can turn your robe inside out and use the red blood stains. So you're in no rush. I can hear the panic in your letter (and believe me, it's hard to hear something that is visual, but I can hear it!) but rest assured you have time; time to maybe take your last name seriously--which just might solve the problem. If that does not work, whiteout blessed by a bishop might do the trick.
Kudos by the way on sticking with the Liturgical Weight Loss program. If you stay with that you might avoid this whole issue, because you'll have to get a new, smaller alb anyways.

In the meantime, hold fast to the words of the Prophet Isaiah (1.18):
though your sins are like scarlet,
    they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
    they shall become like wool.

Stay clean in Christ bro,

The Armchair Theologian



If you have a question (serious or otherwise) or dilemma (real or imaginary) for the Armchair Theologian, leave it in the comment section below. It just might be featured in a future post.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Leave the Flag in the Sanctuary

This goes against pretty much everything I learned at seminary, where we were taught to purge our sanctuaries of any sense of nationalism or American exceptionalism with a vengance.

So why would I dare to say such a thing? Because often pastors do it so foolishly it makes things worse, as evidenced by the difficulty they have in removing the American flag from the sanctuary. But more than that, the struggle is a massive waste of pastoral trust.

Here's the thing: exercising pastoral authority here is a quick way to appear like a pastor-dictator. Most flags have either been in the sanctuary sooo long or have a specific historical purpose to being in the sanctuary (many German Lutherans did so in WWI & WWII to support the country and really protect themselves from suspicion, other churches did so after losing many members to a war, others maybe even as late as 9/11) to remove them is an act of denial of that history/purpose. It rejects whatever coordination there is and whatever emotional connection such an event has solicited. Such a rejection, whatever the reason will have a reaction. But worse off the reason is not usually made until after the fact, it is not brought to discussion, one week the pastor will just go and move the flag out of the sanctuary. In my experience, when that is done, any explanation to follow will likely fall on deaf (or at least hearing impaired) ears. It will not therefore look like the act of theological reflection and pastoral concern but be the pastor trying to have it his/her way.

My other thought is this: I notice that for many, the flag is not a big deal until the pastor makes it a big deal. It's up there, but not being worshiped. It's in the sanctuary, but people are not week in week out reflecting on it, or turning to it or paying it much any attention. I have yet to meet someone who when looking for a new church seeks to make sure the sanctuary has a flag (and IF they were, I would imagine the reason is only because they just left a church where the pastor removed the flag from the sanctuary). What happens though, is there is a sense, I think, for people who do love this nation and want God to bless it (exceptionally or not) is that there is a sense of needing that most once the sea is disrupted. Similarly to how patriotism can flair up after a disaster/terrorist attack, I think the same happens on a small scale. The patriotism is actually flared up when it faces an "enemy", and the expelling of the flag is just that--saying patriotism, no matter how small is wrong or unchristian, or at least has no business in the church of God. Then what happens is they see that to mean there is no supporting the nation, no praying for the nation, no none of that (even if the church never ceases to pray for the nation). The act actually outweighs the actual acts of worship, or faith in action. Additionally veterans can be drawn in negatively by either feeling devalued--especially when one considers that service to the nation was once perhaps the second highest regarded vocation in the church after the ministry--or if one does not feel devalued the instigators may assume they are and take up the "cause" either saying such to veterans themselves or be used as the named "victims" to the pastor.

In addition to how I think the act will in fact make the issue worse (or perhaps make an issue where there really never was one) this also will affect the pastor's ministry beyond this. Another pastor told me last week to carefully choose the hill I want to be burried on when it comes to ministry. Immediately this came to mind. The idea is this, in ministry every time you visit, attend a family's event, go to the hospital, do a funeral, preach a powerful sermon, in general do ministry--especially when it is done personally for and to someone--this builds trust. Through time you develop a bit of a ministry bank, in which the people in trust are invested and connected in your ministry. Likewise, various moments: hard counseling, controversal sermons, making a mistake, pushing a change--all of these will require trust in the ministry bank. So throughout one's ministry, a pastor is regularly making deposits and withdrawals. Or more personally speaking, every act in ministry affects the trust and investment members have in that pastor's leadership and ministry. Conflict, is a major withdrawal. And if one has little investment with members, it will usually boil over and lead to serious conflict, people leaving the church (and often not even the people directly in the conflict but those caught in the crosshairs), pastors being bullied by members, etc. etc.

Because flag conflicts can drag on, and usually seep into other issues around the relationship between faith and nationalism, it uses a lot of trust in the ministry bank. Therefore, it can very easily be the hill a pastor is burried on, or a church suffers from. So not only can it create an issue where there was none, but it can cause in fact a ripple within the ministry for the pastor, either in the whole church or at the least with select members. And the truth is, I'm not sure I would risk that over the issue. At least not until I see it is really becoming one in my community. I (personally speaking of course) value the ability to be a pastor to such a person too much to want to jump the gun on this. Especially because I am sure I will cause plenty of other moments that will require a "withdrawal".

But I understand why this happens. Like I say, seminary teaches us to do this. Pastors push other pastors for into doing it (or brag when they themselves have done it successfully). And we are simply taught to analyze everything in the life of the parish theologically. That is part of our job, this is good. This helps churches better understand who they are, it helps pastors lead. But it can cause us to see problems where there aren't any. And so it is important to be sure that one honestly discerns whether we see symbolism or detriment to ministry in said occasions. Symbolism is open to interpretation, and as such we should consider what would be the most common interpretation. Detriment is where we see a real issue brewing (through comments from members, or other practices in the ministry reflecting and reinforcing bad symbolism). So this is not an outright word not to, but a cry for greater caution.

Finally, I mentioned earlier that this is sometimes done in a dictator like fashion, not as a discussion. If I were to see something needing to happen, I would always advise one build up a culture within the church that supports the move before making the move. Building the sense of what one believes is a proper relation to the nation/nationalism or the proper meaning of the sanctuary (in terms of how one views the symbolism of the flag as contrary to that) through preaching, teaching, and ministries will in fact build within a culture of support--because the people will see it as a natural move given such a culture/faith practice.
Now whenever I suggest pastors must do more, pastors tell me they have done it and it fell on deaf ears. I realize that. Any preacher knows how much a sermon can be preached at 10am and a member tell you the opposite at 10:30am. But if the message is not being welcomed (or affected) by preaching and teaching and building ministry trust, it likely will not be by executive decision. Especially early in the pastor's ministry in the parish.

A pastor once mentioned a colleague, who when he came to a church that did not practice weekly communion--which he felt it should--he preached on communion. He regularly talked about its grace and gift, being sure to note it whenever it was possible in the sermon. It took many months, but eventually members started asking him, "Why aren't we doing communion weekly?" His preaching directed their faith towards it so much that eventually they were the ones who looked and asked. Had he given up after a few months and imposed it, the impact I imagine would have been much different. And so, the best thing, is that if you are a pastor and think the flag needs to be moved--patiently persist in your teaching until the people are asking if the flag is the right symbol for the faith they are expressing.
Or be burried on that hill. Right under the flag.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

MLB MVP Musings

Point by Point here is comes:
1. I am biased, get over it. So are you. My guess is neither of us get a vote in the MVP award this year, so who cares.
2. I don't accept arguments for MVP based on WAR. It is far too abstract of a concept rather than a real stat to determine the MVP. WAR is helpful I think in determining player value, since in that case the principle of buying wins matters. But in terms of production, I'm not buying. WAR has its place and this is not it. It is the single most overrated concept in baseball right now. Additionally, there is no universal consensus on WAR, but usually two main schools of determining it (Fangraphs or Baseballreference) which use different defensive measures. But in general I also take issue to stats that claim such abstract values, especially in a game with such intangibles, where some kinds of production are more important (especially based on the role one has with the team), and especially when applied to an award race that usually is very close and based not on the abstract but on the actual. Ask this year's Baltimore Orioles who are just awesome at winning one run games if the value of a run on their team is higher than the value of a run on a different team. Not all wins or runs are created equal.
3. Which is why the MVP ought favor players who play for contenders. Bottom line, is while a two players may have had similar production (or even generate the same number of wins) the value of the wins and production is different because of what it means for the team. To be sure it takes more than a player to make a contender, which makes this a bit unfair in that your teammates help establish the value of your production, but that is the nature of a team game. And being a good team player, and thriving off of your teams success is in fact, a real quality in my mind for an MVP of a team sport. Every once and a while a player will do so well it does not matter how his team did, because even though his production was of less value than that of a player on a contender, he was just so ridiculously good that he made up the difference by producing a large amount of lesser valued production. If we were to say it mathematically, say a run for a noncontender is only worth .75 value of a run of a contender player. If the noncontender scored 110 runs compared to the contender's 75, the overall value of that production is still better. That's a bit of a abstract example of measurement, I am not saying that is the actual measure, but the point is to say it does not mean players on noncontenders can never be MVPs, but it means the award ought favor contenders, and thus it will require a fair amount more from the player on a noncontender. So I'll say it, they were right in making Braun MVP last year over Kemp. I know Braun had a great team around him. But the fact that he was the clear MVP even when they got excellent production from Gallardo, Fielder, Axford among others in my mind actually says more. On a team filled with great players he stood out as the best.
4. I also think the value to that contender matters. What I mean here, is that when the race boils down perhaps to players of two different contenders, now the question of how much of that is the guys around them matters. An example here might be the race between Beltre and Pujols in 2004 (I think). Even though in most categories Pujols was better than Beltre, it was not enough to ignore that Beltre was far and away more valuable to the Dodgers that year than Pujols to the Cardinals. It sounds strange, but let me show you what I mean. That season Pujols and Beltre were real close in many offensive categories: Pujols hit .331 (.415 OBP) with 46HR 123 RBI, 196 hits (99 for xtrabases) while Beltre hit .334 (.388) with 48HR 121 RBI, 200 hits (80 for xtrabases). You can see in how some of these categories, though close Pujols is better, this is also true in stats like runs, OPS (1.072 to 1.017), and so on. If I were voting on just these, it would be close but I would probably give it to Pujols. However, Beltre when one looks at the cast around him was far more valuable to the Dodgers and their postseason birth than Pujols. Pujols was one of 4 starters hitting over .300 for the Cardinals. Only Paul Loduca (who only played 91 games) hit over .300 for LA. In addition to Pujols the Cardinals had two other players hit over 30 HR (Jim Edmonds actually also hit over 40). No other Dodger hit over 30HR that year. Shawn Green hit 28, Steve Finley had over 30, but he was picked up midseason and only hit 13 with LA. The Cardinals had 3 100RBI guys, Beltre was the lone 100RBI guy for his team (Green was second with 86, next was Milton Bradley with 67). The Cardinals had 3 guys with 100+ runs, 5 with 80+. Beltre was the only 100+ run player they had, Green their only other 80+ run scorer. All this shows, that while the numbers were similar, the Cardinals that year had a very imposing lineup around Pujols and would have had one without Pujols. The Dodgers on the other hand did not. This is why among similar players on different contenders the MVP ought to favor those who stood out more to their team (and were more valuable to it). Ironically enough, neither of these players won MVP that year. It was given to Bonds. I was really mad, but it is hard to dismiss a .600 OBP. This year is a good example then of both how to value similar players on contenders when stats alone would favor the wrong one (Pujols), and an example of when an individual performance outweighed contention.
5. I have a hard time justifying an MVP for a non-full season of work. This is why while I'm ok with Pitchers being MVPs, I think it really takes one excellent year for someone who does not play every game to beat out everyday players. It takes a lot. This also then goes for example for Angels phenom Trout. He is having a monster year. Rookie of the Year hands down. But as folks say MVP I'm weary. He does lead the league in some categories, so that helps build a case that he didn't need to be a full season player to be MVP, but when in some key offensive categories you're lacking, that makes me say, sorry nt MVP. To me you must treat it like a midseason aquisition: could garner some votes, but you have to prove that the value you gave in that little time far exceeds a full season value. To me that is really hard. The only time I've been convinced of this in recent years was the 2008 CC Sabathia acquisition for the Brewers. That was a deal which brought the Brewers to another level, was the only reason they made the playoffs, and CC's value in that abbviated time was more than any Brewer pitcher and most full season players, and it came in part because he went constantly then on 3 days rest (closing some of that part-time role gap). But even then he was no Cy Young, just worthy of some votes. The Angels are hot right now, and if Trout can really deliver clutch performances in this time of the year, he may be deserving. But to me, that is an uphill battle. And I'm not convinced...yet.
6. Ryan Braun should not get some MVP snub because of this offseason. I always found it funny that people wanted his award revoked because of a test that was found positive AFTER the season (and therefore after the votes). There is no evidence he used PEDs during the MVP season, only some evidence that alledged he used after the MVP season. It's like Ichiro testing positive today and people wanting his 2001 MVP revoked, only there is a greater gap of time in between. But both came after the fact. But he also won his appeal, however you feel about it, he did. Get over it. But BWAA writers tend to hold grudges. And this, as I will likely do a whole blog about some other time, is bad for baseball. It's like vigilante justice, it actually leaves a bad mark. Braun is having another MVP like campaign. As of today he leads the NL in HR (37) RBI (98), slugging % (.604), OPS (.993), and total bases (301) and is exceeding or coming close to many of his MVP numbers in 2011. But I will be surprised if Braun gets any serious consideration. Now I don't think Braun should win, for the same reason Kemp did not last year. Milwaukee is not a contender, and Braun is not so far above the competition of players on contenders that I cannot justify him being the MVP. But if Kemp got serious consideration, tons of votes, 2nd in the league in MVP, then Braun ought to have a pretty similar outcome. If Braun gets a total snub and no recognition on the ballot no one can cite last year's vote as the reasoning. Braun rightly won last year, but Kemp was also rightly a top 5 vote getter. Braun would rightly not win this year, but rightly be a top 5 vote getter. But I suspect the voters will carry their grudge from last year and in vigilante style snub Braun their own way. Such things though will make the award a farce, just like the Hall of Fame is slowly becoming. I think there are MVP's, and MVP type seasons. Both ought to be properly recognized on the ballot.
7. Traditional stats matter. They have for a long time and for good reason. Every era something gets undervalued. I think today batting average is. I understand the importance of OBP, I believe wholeheartedly in the value of good OBP. But we ought not dismiss BA. A hit is more valuable than a walk. Period. It can move runners from 1st to 3rd or score runners. It has a greater impact on a pitcher's mentality. And, it is a greater accomplishment. Why is it that many central American players come with horrible plate discipline? Because they know it's the ability to hit that will get them to the majors. If you can hit but lack discipline, that can be taught. Or you can still be a solid MLB player if you're a good enough hitter. But if you can't get hits, strike out a lot, you likely will not be an MLB player, even if you can walk unless you also have power in your game--since a lot of shortcomings are overlooked for the sake of power. A .300/.360 line will always be better than a .225/.360 line. Also, power and RBI matter. There is a reason the best run producers are put in that spot in the lineup. There is a reason they are walked more. RBI I usually hear as dismissive because it depends on the lineup around you. True. You cannot take it alone. But we should not dismiss a stat just because it is dependant on the players around you. This is a team game, and thus the best players will thrive in the opportunities their team gives them. Stats that require team performance are good when they are high, it means you are doing something well for your team. All that means is some people have poorer RBI's than they should (Joey Votto anyone) not that RBI are overrated. This is where stats about runners in scoring position are helpful. Here you can see both how often they come to the plate in such situations and how well they do. BAw/RISP + RBI is a very telling stat. And they are concrete as to what you actually have done production wise. It is also important to understand where they are in the lineup. 75 RBI from a leadoff man is much more impressive than 75 RBI from a cleanup hitter, because they are driving in runs in a lineup spot that does not typically get nearly as many opportunities (especially in the NL). When I hear people dismiss traditional stats like BA, HR, and RBI and argue completely on WAR, OBP, and OPS I giggle, then tell them they are wrong. Not because those don't matter (well...WAR doesn't haha) but because BA, HR, and RBI do matter. Money ball is right in that some other stats were highly undervalued. But people who take that to mean the other stats don't matter are wrong. Just ask those same Moneyball A's who had AL MVP Tejada's .308 average, 34 HR, and 131 RBI.
8. The MVP is best when it doesn't have to be shared. I mean this in two ways: first when a player only gets one major award. I really don't like when someone gets Rookie of the Year and MVP, or Cy Young and MVP. I get that if a pitcher is good enough to be MVP or a Rookie is the MVP he's gonna get the other one, but I prefer when baseball gets to crown as many champs as possible. I also like when teams don't hog all the rewards. Be it if Kemp had won and there would be both Cy Young and MVP to the 2011 Dodgers (how bad would they look if they had a Cy Young pitcher and league MVP OF and still were that horrible?), or when some team takes home all the Gold Gloves. It's like when the All Star team starting lineups look more like an interleague game between the Yankees and the Giants. It just isn't as enjoyable. UNLESS, of course, it happens for the team I root for. Then I am willing to grant the exemption, as all good fans ought.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Mark 7.24-36--Christ's Breaking and Entering

As a supporter of the Revised Common Lectionary (sorry you narrative lectionary fans) I will occasionally take some time to comment on the upcoming readings or past ones as new thoughts come to my mind. Some times they will be profoundly theological, digging into the depths of the gospel of Jesus Christ for you. Other times, it will be more like this one: bringing up things that will likely never make it into the Sunday sermon, but are fun to think about. Enjoy the posts, read the scriptures yourself, think more about God. Sometimes with the seriousness of the profound truth that God would become man for us, sometimes with the incredible fun that only comes with armchair theology.

So this coming Sunday's reading begins with these words (from the NRSV): From there he [Jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice,

Now to most this is just a trasitionary verse. Something to get Jesus quickly from one scene to another. But does anyone wonder how odd it is that Jesus goes into a strange town and just lets himself into someone's house? Of all the talk of coming like a theif in the night the second time, he came like a theif here. Christ is breaking and entering, in today's lingo.
And he isn't even good at it. What's that, Jesus not good at something. He hides in some strange house (the owner of whom we hear nothing of) but is caught in the act.

Now it is worth noting how much more transparent and hospitable the early Palestinian culture would be as compared to a Western private world, where if an out of towner helped himself into a neighbor's house and was caught it would be the cops, not a desperate mother, who would be seeking him out. And since the text says nothing of its owner, we can do nothing but speculate as to how welcome Jesus would be.

But it is odd. What is it that causes Jesus to go into a private home? And to think that this was written with no apparent need to explain these odd circumstances. If nothing else it can remind us how different of a cultural world Christ came into. 

At the same time, it also perhaps carries a theme that keeps recurring in Mark, namely, that Jesus cannot help being Jesus. While some Gospels (especially John) emphasize the intent and control of Jesus, in Mark Jesus at times looks almost out of control. Like when the Spirit drives him into the wilderness (1.12) or when a woman takes healing power from Jesus by snagging his robe as he passes by (5.29-30) this story has an air of things happening outside/apart from Jesus intentional ministry. And this little prelude gives us a glimpse of this. Jesus means to hide, but "he could not escape notice". Within Mark, when people need Jesus, that is what they get. When people are seeking him in faith they will in fact find him. And Jesus will give himself to them. Even when he intends to be alone, people find him. The same that happens here happened in the previous chapter. And just as when Jesus could not help being Jesus for those people, even when he meant to be alone. Here it happens again. To the woman who finds him, Jesus shows no intent to help this woman, in fact likens her to a dog wanting to sit at the family table. Yet in the end, against his intent to be alone and his words of his intent to minister to the people of Israel, here again he cannot help but be the miracle, the Savior, the Jesus she needed. 

These words are not just a transition. They are odd, in that they show Jesus being a creeper into some random home. They are life for us, who like this woman, find that we need Jesus.

Well I thought this was supposed to be a comic only, armchair theology post. Oops. But it's my blog anyways. So deal with it.
And when you need Jesus, remember that Mark testifies that the kingdom of God has come near, and is available to those who need it. When Christ seems far, he is merely hidden. And when the eyes of faith seek him, they find he's been breaking and entering into our own lives, dwelling in our own home. And when you need Jesus, you know that is no mere transition. That is life itself.

Monday, September 3, 2012

The Cubs must never win!

When the Boston Red Sox made a magical comeback down 0-3 in the American League Championship Series, and then went on to win the World Series, all I heard was the constant refrain, "This is good for baseball."
But they were all wrong. And I knew it. I knew it because I was among those who wanted the Yankees to win (like they "always do"), and so I was upset enough by their defeat not to get caught up in the "End of the Curse" euphoria.
For those unfamiliar with what I mean by the "end of the curse", I am of course referring to the curse of the Bambino, which stated that when Babe Ruth was traded (actually sold) to the New York Yankees it forever changed the fates of the two franchises. Ruth would vault the Yankees into one of the winningest franchise in American Sports. The Red Sox on the other hand were "cursed" for the move, giving away one of the best if not the best baseball player ever for basically nothing. The Red Sox would go on to being the ultimate underdogs of the 20th century. No matter how good they were, they just could not win a World Series. No matter how close they came, it only took a routine ground ball to gently roll past and doom them to always being in the Yankees' shadow. What it did was inspire a superstition that the Sox were cursed, and a mentality that made them fun to root for.
But not anymore. While everyone championed how good it was to see their victory, years later now things have changed. Baseball is a sport that lives off of magic, superstition, and nostalgia. Don't get me wrong, I still love the sport, and there is much more to it than that. But this is part of what makes being a fan fun. The feeling of an impossible, supernatural hump makes the experience all the more enjoyable. And it gives one a reason to root for them when they are competing and easy to explain when they lose. It also fueled the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry in a way that no other rivalry in sports could really compare.
But this only exists while the superstition lasts. When the curse ends the magic of the sport is lost and it is just a matter of strategy, performance, and competition. Simply put, it's just not the same. Yes the Yanks and Sox are still rivals, yes people still hate the Yankees, yes it may take until the end of the 21st century before we see another Red Sox World Series victory. But it will never be the same. Or as unique. Or as pure baseball.
Let me put it this way: When Aaron Boone launched an extra-inning walk-off homerun off of Tim Wakefield, that was better baseball than a year later when the final out was recorded and the Red Sox players stormed the mound. No doubt the Red Sox victory felt better and more baseball at the moment. But it killed the ability for future baseball lore about the Red Sox-Yankees Rivalry. That homerun by Boone was the final in almost a century long string of moments, tied together by the curse of the Bambino. It carried that tradition forward. The Red Sox's victory ended it. Before long Boston was no longer the underdog, all of the sudden they were another large market team. When they won again a few years later they were further proof of what is "wrong" with baseball, namely that the big salary teams get the big players and therefore can compete and repeat. During the 2004 season, Boston had the second highest salary (second only to the Yankees) and had fewer homegrown stars than the Yankees. Yet only the Yankees were the evil empire that bought their team. But the Sox are no longer underdogs. Their wins are no longer magical. Their losses have no excuse. Consider last season's meltdown and continued struggles, there was no curse to explain it. It was no longer just inevitable.
Now my title of this blog is about the Cubs. But I've been talking about the Red Sox this whole time. Why? Because the Cubs still have that. They have the infamous goat curse, a less known curse perhaps, but still a part of baseball lore. And every fan watching that Game 6 of the 2003 Championship Series, and the tragic catch by a fan that doomed the postseason, you know the feeling of facing impossibility, the feeling of how the odds will always be stacked against you (sometimes in odd ways). It allows also for the Cubs to maintain a national fanbase that few teams have, in spite of their record. And even for non-Cubs fans like myself (who as a Brewers fan had plenty a years of rivalry with the Chicago Northsiders), I find there is something fun about the curse, that enhances the entire baseball experience. No matter what side you root for.
Therefore while a World Series victory for the Cubs would make for a magical season, it would rob baseball of a century of magical moments. The curse of the Bambino made baseball more exciting, and more unique than it is today. And Cubs fans ought remember that when it is gone it can't come back. The endless patience, the "maybe next year", the "what I would do to see the Cubs win the World Series" excitement and mentality would be gone. And lost years would be just that, and will take many fans with it.
This game needs magic. So please, keep losing.