Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts

Monday, June 18, 2007

Safran and Mormons

I don't remember which friend of mine told me about the Aussie television show "John Safran vs. God," but I find it really interesting. Perhaps my LDS friends will get a giggle out of this segment:

Thursday, March 1, 2007

Misquoting Jesus - Chapter 3

Part of a continuing series of reactions to the Mind on Fire reading group's reaction to Misquoting Jesus by Bart Ehrman. You can also read my entries on the Introduction, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2.

It isn't my goal to summarize the chapter, grade-school book report style, but to highlight the information which I found striking and worthwhile to remember, along with some of my reactions.

Texts of the New Testament

I believe the goals of this chapter were to
  • show the practical consequences of previously discussed issues with early copyists of the New Testament
  • highlight and give back-story to the historically and scholarly significant Bible editions
  • give an overview on the types of changes to the Bible made by copyists
An interesting opening point was the idea of regional differences in copies of the Bible. Before the rise of the professional scribe, books were copied by individuals with less than perfect literacy skills (again, as highlighted in the previous chapter). Since copies of books were more difficult to produce in these pre-scribal times, one can imagine that an individual copying a book on his own would introduce unique mistakes to his copy. Then if that copy was taken to an area which didn't have copies of the book, then copyists in that area would base all the area's copies on the uniquely mistaken copy. Thus the idea of errors or variations in texts unique to an area. I wonder whether it's possible to create an early family tree of book copies based on the variations within the text. Or even identify the region a book came from based on the errors contained within it, like a fingerprint. Perhaps the transposition of two key words shows up in a certain city's copies. I hope that idea gets addressed later on.

After the rise of the professional scribal class, copies of manuscripts became more uniform. Because of their uniformity, they were presumptively superior, but of course the manuscripts were based upon flawed copies of flawed copies of flawed copies of manuscripts. So we need to question the source of these professionally copied manuscripts.

Byzantine manuscripts are the scholarly jargon for manuscripts in Greek made in the area formerly known as the Byzantine Empire.

The Latin Vulgate (4th century) was motivated by the multitude of varying Latin translations of Greek manuscripts. The Pope commissioned an official translation, which was based upon the best available translations as well as Greek sources. Vulgate is Latin for "common."

After the invention of the printing press, the Vulgate was the translation use for the Gutenberg Bible, the first book to be print-published (1450's). After being standardized upon over 1000 years before, it was thought of as the source manuscript, though of course it wasn't even the source language. The Complutensian Polyglot was a project to produce Latin, Greek, and (for the Old Testament) Hebrew translations side by side. Started over 50 years after the first print publishing of the Vulgate, it was the first time a Greek manuscript would be printed.

After the project started, Dutch scholar Erasmus raced to get his own Greek printed edition published, actually beating out the Complutensian Polyglot with his edition, Textus Receptus. Erasmus was less than thorough in getting multiple sources for the Textus Receptus, using a single 12th century source for Acts and Epistles and translating some of the Vulgate back to Greek for missing pages of Revelation. Ehrman makes a nicely snarky point that the Textus Receptus is based on a few Greek manuscripts at best to few or none (Revelation) at it's worst. The quality of the source manuscripts wasn't the best, and included the "woman taken in adultery" story and the last 12 verses of Mark, both mentioned in chapter 2 as problematic. It didn't originally include the Johanine Comma (only source reference for the idea of Trinity), as Erasmus couldn't find a Greek manuscript which included it. In a revised edition, he did include it after some contemporaries manufactured a Greek manuscript including the Johanine Comma! With all these problems, the Textus Receptus is the basis for 500 years of Greek manuscripts of the Bible, including the source for the King James translation. That's pretty mind-blowing to me, though I'm probably just a guilty of uncritical reading as the next guy. For example, I haven't read any of the source material referenced by Ehrman. I've just accepted his expertise... It's pretty disturbing that hundreds of years of Biblical tradition can be inspired by a rush-job, though.

Mill's Apparatus (1707) was a 30 year effort by John Mill which was based on a 1550 Greek edition by Stephanus (itself based on the Textus Receptus). It included "variant readings" from 100 Greek sources, and noted thirty-thousand places of variation, leaving out most word-order variations.

Today, there are 5,700 known Greek manuscripts from the 2nd to 16th centuries, ten-thousand Vulgate manuscripts, and all-in between 200-thousand and 400-thousand variants.

The chapter closes with a section on the types of changes which occurred during copying from accidental (misreading, misunderstanding abbreviations, and line skipping) to intentional (correcting factual errors, interpretive errors, circumventing misunderstanding, adding doctrinal emphasis, synchronizing texts with oral traditions).

For me, the chapter really shatters the idea of the literal, inerrant word of God being preserved in the Bible. Of course, that doesn't mean much, as that was my bias. However, I found it fascinating at the quantity and quality of the scholarly work which has gone into clarifying the details of the variants, yet how little is spoken of it in contemporary spiritual life.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Blogging Church

I was inspired to start this blog by reading about the spiritual and emotional journeys of friends. A couple weeks ago, I came across this post on the 43 Folders site, about blogging in general, but specifically about blogging in a Church setting. Very interesting idea for a book. I'll have to check it out.

Blogs: Watching passionate thoughts evolve (in public) | 43 Folders

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Misquoting Jesus - Chapter 2

Part of a continuing series of reactions to the Mind on Fire reading group's reaction to Misquoting Jesus by Bart Ehrman. You can also read my entries on the Introduction and Chapter 1.

The Copyists of the Early Christian Writings


The general theme of the chapter is that Christian writings were painstakingly hand-copied and re-copied by non-professionals early in Christian history, then by more professional groups later on. And in all cases, errors occurred, sometimes mistaken ones and sometimes deliberate ones. In fact, the errors were so common that authors themselves referenced the potential, and scholars wrote about the frustration of having their studies thwarted by a text which was clearly rife with errors. Interesting to me to read this discussion and really sit to think about it. I mean, in modern West, we're fairly literate, but we probably haven't had to undertake the task of hand-copying a book. The task is quite daunting to think about. I just hand-copied my math homework earlier this week and kept making mistakes doing that. And it took a lot of time. And was generally not fun. I just can't imagine doing it.

Interesting point made about scriptuo continua, copyingatextwithoutspacingorpunctuationwhatapainintheassthatmustbetoreadandcopydefinitepainintheass. This was probably a result of the previous chapter's discussion of what "literate" really meant at the time. Some of the literate class could recognize letters, but not syllables. Could write symbols, but not spell.

Another interesting point is the type of error made by a person who was making a copy for personal use or for their community's use. These people might not have had the literacy issues previously mentioned, but might have had agendas in the changes they made, much less of an issue when the copying was being done by an impartial professional. Indeed, professional scribes might make a different kind of change to the text, namely fixing an error which they believed had crept into the source copy!

Ehrman muddies the water even more by pointing out that quite often the source material might have been written by a secretary taking dictation. And like modern day dictation, the secretary might have been given a broad outline of material to cover as opposed to a word for word dictation. In fact, in my mind, this is much more likely than the word for word dictation, because of the time-consuming nature of doing so. I wonder if it might even have been easier to rely on an assistant to do that due to the high level of training one would need to have to assist someone at that specific task. The secretary might have been one of the highest educated people around. Ehrman then points out that the secretary might have made multiple copies of the writing to send to multiple cities in a region, possibly making mistakes in doing so.
The meaning of the word autograph (original copy) in this case is very muddied: Which copy was the original? Did it necessarily even reflect the original intent of the person giving dictation?! I can imagine a situation where the person giving dictation says one thing, and the transcriber writes something different, unnoticed by the originator of the thought (or noticed but perhaps the 'author' like the change better than his own words). Actually I think that's a major plot point in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses.

The last few sections describe the problems which scholars come across when trying to reconstruct original texts, namely sections which clearly don't seem to match the text they're included with. Sometimes that means that the vocabulary doesn't match. Sometimes they have older copies of text without the included passages. I'll mention the most famous passage, The Woman Taken in Adultery in John 7:53-8:12 ("Let the one who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone at her") [by the way, I originally typed "one who is without son among you"]. Ehrman writes:
Despite the brilliance of the story, its captivating quality, and its inherent intrigue, there is on other enormous problem that it poses. As it turns out, it was not originally in the Gospel of John. In fact, it was not originally part of any of the Gospels. It was added by later scribes.
[..]
Here I can simply point out a few basic facts that have proved convincing to nearly all scholars of every persuasion: the story is not found in our oldest and best manuscripts of the Gospel of John; its writing style is very different from what we find in the rest of John (including the stories immediately before and after); and it includes a large number of words and phrases that are otherwise alien to the Gospel. the conclusion is unavoidable: this passage was not originally part of the Gospel.
Again, I have to be very careful in my state of mind when reading this information, for I've always assumed that this type of mistake exists in the Bible, but to have a scholar confirm it feels a little like someone telling me something I very much want to hear. I'm very interested in the future sections which promise more description of the evidence. Also worth pointing out that this information is traceable back to the sources which Ehrman is making his judgements on.

It was a nice, tight chapter which got down to business, made it's points, and finished. Would read again.

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

More Discussions With LDS Friends

Last Wednesday, I ditched my Linear Algebra class to attend my second class with a group of current and former members of the LDS faith. My first visit to the class was very inspiring, and this time was no different.

John Remy taught the class and based it on the current Sunstone cover story on LDS couples where one spouse has a faith crisis, clearly a very personally relevant topic for more than one person in attendance at the class. The article is based on what John described as "the most attended and downloaded session at Sunstone's 2006 Salt Lake Symposium." Oh, here's the title: For Better, for Worse, for Apostasy? How Faith Issues Affect Couple Relationshps.

The session description states:
How does it affect the stability and foundation of the relationship when one partner in an LDS temple marriage begins to question his or her core religious beliefs? In this session, three couples share their personal experiences with doubt and changes in faith—how they worked through these changes and not only stayed married but also deepened their commitment to each other.
John began by asking what ideas the various people had about marriage based on LDS tradition going into marriage. It was interesting to hear that most of them had been married in their early 20's and had been taught (or just picked up) a vision of successful marriage which focused on actions and activities. "If I have a temple marriage, remain active in the Church, etc., then my spouse and I will be able to handle most issues which come up." Most married couples laughed at the naiveté which this view embodied (their words, not mine!). There was an implied criticism there (lack of focus on communiation?) but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

The discussion moved on to mistaken assumptions, such as exactly what level of activity was implied by "remaining active," and even what each other's family backgrounds and level of orthodoxy was. I don't remember the exact timing on this, but I did have a subsequent conversation with one of the other attenders who implied that the shared cultural heritage makes LDS couples more prone to assuming agreement on most issues, while a couple without that shared heritage might be more prone to explore those issues. A specific couple and specific book of pre-marriage questions was mentioned, neither of which I knew. I was a little shocked that there wasn't a better pre-marriage counseling program within the LDS church to cover those issues. There seems to be so much organization surrounding other activities, that I just assumed that would be one of them.

I think this assumption was based on an episode of KCRW's Speaking of Faith entitled Marriage, Family, and Divorce [-Real Audio-][-transcript-]. The dominant characteristic I've been told about LDS is "pro-family," and I just assumed that something as helpful as Rabbi Dorff's class would be available. By the way, the discussion with Rabbi Dorff makes for really interesting reading/listening, but the unscientific statistic of 8% divorce rate for those who had gone through the Making Marriage Work classes at the University of Judaism really stands out.

...[S]ometimes during the course of the 10-week program, because of the curriculum, which gets them to talk to each other about a variety of different important things, sometimes they decide, "You know, maybe we shouldn't get married." So some of them — which is much better for them to decide beforehand than afterward.

So some of it is that, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that they get skills through these courses in terms of how to interact with each other. I mean, the first — it's 10 sessions. I think the first five deal with communication skills. They come to talk with each other and then in a group about strategies to deal with parents, strategies to deal with friends of one who are not friends of the other, issues of jobs versus children and how to handle them. Well, one really important one is how do you have a fight and still come out married? And part of it has to do also with expectations.

I love Broadway musicals, so the way that I like to put it is this, right? The Hollywood image of marriage is from South Pacific. "Some enchanted evening you will meet a stranger across the crowded room. You'll know even then that somehow you'll meet her again and again." Right?
[..]
And so the image that you get is that marriage is a series of enchanted evenings. And then when you get married and you find out that indeed there are some enchanted evenings, but most of them are sort of ho-hum and some of them are downright unenchanted, you begin to think that — if that was your expectation, you begin to think, "Well, maybe this is not the marriage for me," and you break up. As opposed to Fiddler on the Roof, right? "After 25 years, do you love me?" "Well, for 25 years we've done this, that and that. Now you ask me do I love you? Well, I suppose I do." "And I suppose I love you, too. After 25 years, it doesn't change a thing, but it's nice to know." Right? Now there, I mean, what that piece speaks is I think the traditional Jewish understanding of marriage. That is, you get married primarily because you like each other enough to do the work of family together, that is to grow old together, to have companionship, to have children, to raise those children.
Very interesting espousal of the non-romanticized viewpoint. What I was hearing second-hand from the other attenders of the class shaded more towards idealism (though more about religious idealism than romantic idealism).

Painful to hear that the structure of the LDS Church makes spouses feel in this cases as if their spouse's questioning of their shared faith jeopardizes the salvation of both. I sensed some tension between the attenders over this issue ("But if you read the scripture, you'd see that it's not true!" "But the entire culture and structure makes one feel as if it's true."), but not too heated, as if this was an old, familiar disagreement. The discussion turned very personal at that point, as more than one married couple in attendance had some type of tension they were dealing with, and some shared their processes. I wish I could have heard from them all on this issue, and whether my presence as an outsider kept everyone from being 100% candid. I don't have any personal revelations in this area of my life to share, so perhaps that isn't conducive to candor from some of the more reserved attenders.

The discussions on post-marriage adjustments were also fascinating, though again, were quite personal, and not my stories to share.

The low point of the night for me was when John told me about the "temple recommend" interview. I was shocked to find out that one of the questions was about being up-to-date on tithing. That wasn't the low point. The low point was that I didn't have the emotional control to hide my shock. I think that made everyone uncomfortable and I'm pretty disappointed in myself. My kung-fu is weak.

Not sure when I'll be able to get back, but I find this type of discussion to be incredibly stimulating. I'll have to hunt down a copy of the Sunstone article and get a copy of the symposium session.

Monday, February 5, 2007

Misquoting Jesus - Chapter 1

This post is part of John Remy's Mind on Fire bookgroup, which is reading Bart Ehrman's Misquoting Jesus. Though I've volunteered to cover chapter 7 for the group, I'm blogging my reactions to every chapter.

I was originally going to hold back my chapter reactions until after the "assigned" book group member's reaction was posted, but we seem to not be doing that in order. Oh well.

My guilty confession is that I bogged down on chapter one for well over a year after I read the introduction. Only the reading group has really motivated me to continue, and I'm glad I did. As someone who has never formally studied the Bible, I've often felt lost about the structure and origin of the various pieces of the New Testament. This chapter helped me understand the back-story which helped me understand why they might be included in Canon at all. Looking back at the chapter, I can see why Ehrman thought to structure it the way he did, but I might have benefited from a better "executive summary" at the top of the chapter.

It starts with a discussion on the Judaic roots of Christianity, and the "bookish" character of Judaism as a unique characteristic in the history of the world to that point. It's important to understanding the roots and writing traditions of early literate Christians and why they would turn to the written word as a tool. Early Christian Letters, the first discussion of Christian writing, was eye-opening for me in seeing that the various founders of Churches (namely Paul) struggled with keeping separated populations of people synchronized in their belief systems. Letters were an attempt to solve that problem. Interestingly, we still do that today. The next few subsections, Early Gospels, Early Acts, Apocalypses, Orders, Apologies, Martyrologies, etc. helped me to a deeper understanding behind the motivation behind writings which eventually became Canon. Another constant theme is the number of lost texts which fall into one of these categories. Martyrologies struck a cord with me after having recently read about the "martyr complex" of early American Quakers in Daniel Boorstin's The Americans: The Colonial Experience.

The next section is on the formation of Canon. It really only whetted my appetite for information on this process, and pointed to another Ehrman book (among others) for the full story.

Next is a discussion of literacy rates in the early Christian populations (low) and what literacy even meant to the population of the time. This dovetails with a discussion of the tradition of public readings of scripture (so the illiterate know what's going on).

Ehrman closes with a series of questions all this raises. What was the infrastructure behind production of books in these pre- printing-press times? What was the infrastructure behind distributing them? Who was doing the copying and how do we know it was accurate?

I found the chapter to be slow going at first, but it got better and better. Part of my experience is reading in a way that I'll be able to discuss the chapters in these posts, which is a different kind of reading for me.

Onward! Ruth Reichel and Barbara Ehrenreich are whispering in my ear, and I don't want to fracture my attention (even more than it is).

Friday, February 2, 2007

How Can I Keep From Singing?

In light of my recent experience with LDS singing, I was pleasantly surprised this past Sunday to experience some singing at the Rise of Meeting. So I posed this question to the OCFM mailing list:

I really enjoyed the singing at the rise of meeting this past week. I know that there's a monthly group that sings before meeting, but I was wondering what the historical discussion has been about including a song at the end of Meeting for Worship.

I've recently been reminded by my friends of other traditions how powerful and comforting song can be, even if it was just singing "As We Leave This Friendly Place" as we head for refreshments, as I remember doing at other Meetings I've attended (no hymn book required).
I thought I was being fairly clear that I was looking for an overview of the past discussion on this issue, but got at least one fairly negative response to my "advocacy."

It feels a little overly dogmatic about not "programming" worship.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Like Riding a Bike

Meant to share this thought over a week ago at Meeting, but didn't get a chance with all the ministry going on. The thought's been bouncing around my head all week and with a repeat performance during my ride on Saturday, I felt compelled to discuss this at Meeting this past Sunday. Here's my best attempt at re-creating the thought.

When I first started to cycling for fitness, I had a lot of fun, but there were a lot of distractions like saddle-soreness, endless gear to buy, hands going numb during rides, other riders, worrying that I looked ridiculous, etc. Recently, most of those distractions have dropped away, leaving how I happen to feel on a given day, plus something unexpected. When I'm on the bike, I can feel the texture of the road, the wind in my face, my legs falling into a rhythm, my breathing becoming deeper, more rhythmic, and for brief periods of time, my sense of self fading away. It's as if there is no bike, no actual physical presence, just the act of riding, the feel of the wind, road, and pedaling without me actually being there. I'm doing a bad job of describing the feeling, but that's as close as I can get. Cycling has become a little bit about chasing this feeling of connectedness and transcendence.

I can't help but draw a parallel between my experience on the bicycle and my experience in Quaker "Meeting for Worship." Since I was raised in the Quaker tradition, the prospect of sitting quietly in a room for an hour wasn't that foreign an idea. However, consideration and practice are two different things, and I was living with a 20 year gap in practice. The silent worship was difficult during those first few meetings. I didn't have an adult history of meditative practice, or any basis for knowing what I should be doing during that time. I was uncomfortable sitting in a single place for an extended period of time, distracted by the noise from the street, and fell into the habit of clock-watching.

Over time, I've managed to get to a place where I can still my body, quiet my mind, not have a thought agenda, and sit in "expectant waiting" and "worshipful silence." Most times, I can feel the street noise wash over and through me, as if I'm sand on a beach and the noise is the waves of the ocean. I can sense the passing of time, but am usually surprised by the end of silent meeting. And at times, my sense of self and individuality fades a little bit. I have this incredible feeling of connectedness that I want to continue. And in that state, I can let thoughts swim into focus as a meditative subject. Others might call that prayer, and that's fine with me to. The act is more important to me than the terminology.

Had a chance last night to briefly touch on the difficulties of silent worship with new friends outside the Quaker tradition, and found it difficult to condense this thought down to a 20 second blurb. They were discussing visiting the Meeting the next time there's an "Introduction to Quakerism" class. Hope they might stumble across this at some point. Or be pointed. Hint, hint.

Found this account by pilgrimgirl to be very enlightening on how to adjust one's own tradition to the Quaker one. But it might not fill the hour! :-)

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Misquoting Jesus - Introduction

Though I've volunteered to blog about chapter 7 of Bart Ehrman's Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (Plus), I thought I'd try to put down my reactions for each chapter. And I've been delaying my reading of Journeygal and pilgrimgirl's blog entries on the book in order to keep my reactions "pure." And I -really- want to read their entries, so ...

The introduction is a first-person narrative of Ehrman's religious journey and evolving relationship with the Bible. He foreshadows the twist which his path takes by explaining his desire to learn the Bible and memorize passages from it, but the true inflection point of his story comes when he's at Moody Bible Institute, learning the basics of textual criticism (attempting to reconstruct the original texts):

One of the most pressing of all tasks, therefore, was to ascertain what the originals of the Bible said, given the circumstances that (1) they were inspired and (2) we don't have them. - Misquoting Jesus p. 5
What seems to differentiate Ehrman from his peers at Moody is his intellectual curiosity about the original, inspired words of God.

Later at his next stop, Wheaton College, Ehrman continues this intellectual path, realizing that reading the earliest texts surviving today means learning the languages they are in. But that bring other complications into his faith:

... the experience of learning Greek became a bit troubling for me and my view of scripture. I came to see early on that the full meaning and nuance of the Greek text of the New Testament could be grasped only when it is read and studied in the original language...[T]his started maing me question my understanding of scripture as the verbally inspired word of God. If the full meaning of the words fo scripture can be grasped only by studying them in Greek...doesn't this mean that most Christians, who don't read ancient languages, will never have complete access ot what God wants them to know? And doesn't this make the doctrine of inspiration a doctrine only for the scholarly elite... What good deos it do to say that the words are inspired by God if most people have absolutely no access to these words, but only to more or less clumsy renderings of these words into a language, such as English, that has nothing to do with the original words? - Misquoting Jesus p. 6-7
Though I didn't know the technical details of translation, that's always been a source of friction to me. Anyone who knows two languages is aware of the situations where one language will have a word for a concept that takes a while to explain in the other language through context and example. But instead of doing that a lot of time, we'll give a rough approximation which misses subtleties, nuance, and context. Heck, it even happens in the same language across cultures. Try getting someone from the South to explain the word "bubba" and oftentimes they'll just give the one-word synonym "redneck." But I've heard explanations which took almost 5 minutes to give! I always wondered how, for example, the Psalms could possibly be translated yet rhyme. And all of this presupposes having inspired text as the basis, which we know we don't have. But Ehrman keeps searching for the truth as he understands it, no matter where that search might take him.

There's a bit of dissonance when he describes a major change in his thought a bit later on when he lists a series of inconsistencies or just plain mistakes in the text of the New Testament. Despite the previous sections on not having autographs (original writings) he still seemed to cling to the idea that the words were inerrant until studying at Princeton Theological Seminary.

So back to the issue of not having the autographs, he mentions a startling statistic about the differences in various texts we do have:

[T]here are more differences among our manuscripts than there are words in the New Testament. - Misquoting Jesus p. 10
Shocking, even for someone like me who hasn't every really held the Bible as a text of mystical importance.

Ehrman concludes on page 11 that a divinity which would have inspired the autographs could have preserved them and provided versions in later languages as well. I have a problem with this kind of analysis since if someone is going to believe in magic, why not also believe in inspired translation or inspired textual criticism?

This type of narrative is something I have to be careful of since it plays into my prejudices: passionate and intellectually rigorous examination of holy books leads us away from a literalist interpretation of them.

I'm very much looking forward to reading the posts others have done and the comments others have made.

The Comfort of Friendship

After Meeting on Sunday, I had lunch with EVH and a new attender, AA. Great food and great conversation, though we veered a bit more spiritual than I was used to in those situations. I guess that's a side-effect of having someone who's experiencing Quakerism for the first time. EVH is on the verge of some serious grilling by her exam board, so here's to you EVH. Knock-em-dead! But not literally. Always interesting to hear people I know discuss their spirituality, and EVH being a smarty is especially interesting to listen to (Pretty and smart? Deadly combination). She mentioned the comfort of ritual, which definitely resonated with me. We also chatted a bit about Quaker Clearness Committees. It's such a unique process that I really can't hear enough about it. Jana mentioned it once as well, and I still ask her to tell the story every once-in-a-while, usually trying to pretend (badly) that it's for someone else's benefit. Oops, I might have done that to EVH as well.

Maybe I was mumbling, but EVH always seemed to mis-hear me in the funniest way possible. Though that was a two-way street: At one point I thought she was saying she was very into scarification (instead of her actual "I am respectful of it" stance). It's odd where I draw my lines. I'm respectful of piercing and tatoo'ing in most of their forms, but scarification is something I have a difficult time with.

Actually, I noticed AA had a semi-elaborate tribal tattoo around one ankle, that I meant to ask the story behind. She has an interesting narrative, coming from a Unitarian Universalist background. Finally hearing about that tradition made me all the more interested in checking it out some time (beliefnet tells me I'm a 100% match). Also interesting was the "tour of faiths" she's put herself through. I found it difficult enough to go to my first Meeting, and that was a tradition I was familiar with! The prospect of visiting others without knowing whether it's a waste of time or not sounds really intimidating to me. And she didn't just visit, it sounds like she checked out various Bible studies as well. Wow. Maybe I can shortcut all that by picking her brain. :-) Also of note was her dance with various grad-school programs. As someone gearing up to go back to school, I'm always interested in hearing about other experiences in those situations.

[EDIT: added 11:04am]
I mentioned my experience at LDS Institute, and how the singing made me nostalgic, especially since there we sang a song at the rise of meeting (tougher in the absence of hymn books, but still fun). We all agreed that music can be a powerful, positive experience.

I missed Kathy, David, Bonnie, Shana, Ryan, and the Remys, but it was a lovely afternoon with fascinating company.

Did I already mention dinner with the Remys in a previous post? Well, I won't go back and re-visit that too much except to say that I find it amazing to see their kids growing like weeds. It's perhaps easier to see in CatGirl, with her jumping and prancing (and not doing homework). I swear she grew a couple centimeters while I was eating dinner. But GameBoy is clearly growing too, though perhaps less obviously. He doesn't prance per se, but after marching with him for over an hour on Saturday and seeing him at dinner Sunday, it's a little shocking to compare him to my memories from just a few months back. I guess it's just that age. Is he at that age when boys are actually behind girls in growth? I seem to remember it being somewhere around that 12-14 year range when, in swimming, girls would dominate boys in the same age group. That ends, but not soon enough, it seemed.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Divine Comedy

Grinding away at the first Linear Algebra problem set with iTunes on shuffle (highest rated playlist; John Remy is right: it's too distracting to have to interrupt to rank a song). Starting to get a little frantic (over 12 hours left, but still) when the David Bowie/Queen song "Under Pressure" comes on. I didn't realize it right away, but when I did, I thought to myself, "That God's go a sick sense of humor."

Next song, Depeche Mode's "Blasphemous Rumors," which has that line as a lyric.

Spooky.

Next song, "Spooky" by Dusty Springfield.

Just kidding, I don't own any Dusty Springfield.

I Don't Know What I Beleive Pt. 2

I've been considering the question of sexual morality recently since it's been brought up by more than one LDS-backgrounded friend.

What is the Quaker position on premarital sex?
Deep breath. I take this question as neither an invitation to have sex nor an invitation to get married. Of course, the important thing here is what is my position? Maybe I just say that because I don't know the official Quaker position off the top of my head.

There is a late-teen memory which flashes into my head. I spent the summer before my senior year making some really intense friendships at a summer camp run by the Junior Statesmen Foundation (Stanford 1990 represent!). I maintained contact with one of the gals for a brief time and had an intense overnight conversation about relationships, sex, and friendship. She was the first female peer that felt comfortable talking to me about her history with sex, and shared that she'd probably stayed in her last relationship (which was shading vaguely abusive) way too long solely because of the bond and closeness she felt because of sex. I think that revelation was my first hint that I didn't know everything about sex. Well, certainly I knew the consequences, but this might have been the first time that I was introduced to the idea of sex causing bonding where before there might have only been weak attraction or none at all.

Now I'm not 16 any more, but this discussion bubbles to the top of my mind when I'm asked about promiscuity, premarital sex, or casual sex. My personal experiences haven't ever really conflicted with that late-night conversation. I can understand the desire for casual sex, but can't say much about sex has ever been casual to me. A new friend of mine told me that wasn't her experience at all, which was surprising. Though now I wonder whether she meant that wasn't her experience with the attitudes of men she knew, as opposed to her personal experience.

I don't know whether this was a coordinated thing, but my LDS friends have all casually (or not so casually) mentioned the idea of LDS chastity to me, all in the space of a very few days (what's up with the chastity message, people?). Chastity as in premarital chastity. I know I'm old now because I can certainly understand the motivations behind that attitude. Maybe I look back and and see that some of the experiences I had as a young person could have been delayed. Chastity, in my mind, has it's problems. Sexuality is just so complex, over time (and even over not so much time), that I wonder how people could make a marriage commitment without knowing their long-term sexual compatibility. One friend floated the idea that talking about expectations ahead of time would be a good step, as would faith and a commitment to work on things that might come up. Those are definitely great ideas, but nothing is quite like the actual thing, over time, in real-life, less-than-ideal conditions. And by implication, doesn't that mean that people are getting married without first living together? Another thing that amazes me.

Whoops, what's right for me? I guess I think there's a middle ground between chastity and promiscuity.

I think the official position is that sex is something that should be limited to people in a committed and caring relationship, which pretty much describes my attitude.

[EDIT: Added Question]
Let me throw out the question of premarital chastity to my legions of readers who experienced that kind of culture. Was it difficult to negotiate different expectations before and after marriage? How about my married readers who didn't grow up in that kind of culture? Any insights?

Sunday, January 21, 2007

I Don't Know What I Believe Pt. 1

I've been having a fascinating conversations with new LDS friends about topics which have really made me examine what I believe.

First off, sexual morality. No, I'll leave that for later.

First off, marriage. I heard a very interesting description of marriage being a decision point or as I rephrased it, a "line in the sand" for a relationship. Marriage means a couple is stepping up and making a commitment to each other, friends, family, and God. I really don't see the marriage ceremony that way at all. To me, a relationship involves an escalating series of commitments and discussions about what partners expect and need from each other. I hope that at the point that I marry someone, the serious commitment to her will have been in the past. I hope that the conversations that I have with the divine spirit will have been in the past. I see the ceremony as more of a celebration and sharing of the joy with community. Then again, I've never been close to married, so what do I know.

Next, do I believe in sin, redemption, forgiveness, and an afterlife. Nice list, eh?

Last first; Do I believe in an afterlife?

I think the quick answer is no. I have no way of knowing about what might go on after death. What I do know is that I need to live my life as if this were the only chance I have to love my family, love my friends, and do good in the world. I just can't put any of that stuff, thinking that I'll just make up for it in the afterlife.

Is it depressing not to have have faith in an afterlife?

In the past, it has been. CH recently reminded me of a statement I made to him back in high-school about envying the faith and comfort a friend of ours derived from her religion. But I think I'm over that now. I have faith and comfort but faith that what I do in this life matters. I'd love to meet both my grandmothers again and converse with them as adults. I'd love to ask my Tokyo granny about her writings on worship, chat with my Grandfather about life in Shanghai. Maybe I'll get the chance to do those things, but I feel a little dirty trying to use those things to motivate myself to live a good life. A good life is worth living, afterlife or not. And especially if there's no afterlife.

Do I believe in sin, redemption, and forgiveness?

To me, the concept of sin presupposes fairly rigid rules, which I haven't experienced in my spirituality. I experience morality in a pretty complex way. So sin, no. Being on the wrong side of a moral decision certainly happens to me.

Redemption or salvation?

Not really. Well, that's not quite true. But when I don't see the afterlife as a relevant part of my life, and I don't really believe in hard and fast sin, well, redemption doesn't seem very relevant, does it?

Forgiveness?

This is a very weird issue for me. I don't think I believe in forgiveness for sin, partly because I'm not on board with sin. I know that even living by my own brand of morality, I'm far from perfect. And I strive to seek guidance in how I experience Divinity on how to live my life better than I do now. But to forgive my past? Absolution? A magic wand that wipes me clean? That isn't how I experience spirituality.

As always, more self-indulgent rambling later...

Monday, January 15, 2007

Frustration

I'm up doing my dry-run of attending class Wednesday morning, but I've run into a slight problem. My class is on Wednesday night. How the ... How did that happen?! I've signed up for a class which directly conflicts with one the Remy's have invited me to attend on Wednesday nights, one I was really excited to attend. The 8am time I thought I was signing up for seems to have evaporated. In fact, this particular class doesn't seem to be offered in the early morning at all! I don't have any explanation beyond self-delusion on Friday night when I registered.

Getting my schooling untracked seems to easily be the priority here, but I hate to sacrifice the fellowship and spiritual stimulation I experienced. Not so easily the priority.

Fuming. Seething. I need to go calm down.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Reflections on 100 Hours Part 1

My mind is still buzzing over a couple of the events I attended in the early/mid part of the week. The class led by Pilgrimgirl was something I found especially provocative. Though I was baffled by some aspects of the discussion on prayer (verbal vs. non-verbal, vocalized vs. non-vocalized), the depth of thought about every-day worship was something I found very appealing. It's too easy in life to skip introspection for the external demands which are placed upon us. For those who don't want to think about this in spiritual terms, imagine setting aside time for a self-assessment at the beginning and end of each day. Imagine taking the time to review the things one wants to do better in life or for the day ahead, and the taking an inventory of the things that went well (or which could have gone better) each evening. In my mind, prayer lies in that direction of introspection, though with a difference in one's state of mind.

A friend of mine in a 12-step program reminded me of their tradition of acknowledgement of a "higher power," which always reminds me of the Quaker non-specific description of divinity. Though the Quaker descriptions tend to focus inward (inner-Light, "that of God in all of us," etc).

Back to the class, I found it so gratifying to join a group of people willing and able to discuss their slightly different attitudes towards prayer, including struggles against their Church's traditions (perhaps too weak a term) of prayer. Briefly touched upon their tradition of passing into divinity after death, which I'm not that familiar with. What an amazing comfort it must be to have faith in that kind of afterlife. Difficult for me to understand the rigidity of practice in a Church, such rigidity that the thought of deviating from stated acceptable practice is a source of fear for some. It wasn't my place to provide comfort for that pain and fear to a someone who I barely know, but I wish that it was. My ministry kung-fu is weak.

The class closed with the song (hymn?) "Secret Prayer" which was ... beautiful. It really served to remind me that I miss the musical tradition of Quakerism which I grew up in. A friend who attended the class asked me whether music was a part of Quaker worship, which is a difficult question to answer. My understanding is that different Meetings have different traditions of music. This is perhaps a problem in the fragmentation in the practice of Quakerism. I get the feeling that one can get a fairly consistent experience in LDS Churches (actually, that's just an assumption), which is kind of true when one travels within various unprogrammed Meetings. However, music doesn't really seem to consistently fall under the umbrella of worship in Quaker meetings. I don't ever remember anything more formal than the type of group sing we did at the close of last night's class (pass around the hymn book, and let's all sing...).

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

100 Hours of Spirituality

This past Sunday, I taught the older kids' First Day School (that's Quaker for Sunday School) session. This second time around was a lot better for me, as I essentially made up my own lesson on Quakerism.

The first time, back in October 2006, I followed a lesson plan on the Old Testament which was ok, but forced me to re-read the Old Testament for the first time in 20-something years. And it's not that I'm complaining about that, it's that reading the bible means reading all the stuff that disillusioned me to it in the first place. The lesson plan was on Exodus, focusing mostly on the Covenant, but oddly skipped over some chapters. Being a curious guy, I'm not just going to skip over ... oh no! Exodus 21 is a chapter outlining God's laws on acceptable behavior towards one's Hebrew slaves! Yeah, I guess I'm not going to teach that, but it felt like I was being dishonest to the kids.

So, "What is Quakerism" is a task that's a bit more palatable to me. For the record, my highlights were:
Lack of Creed
Lack of Sacrament
Inner Light
Personal Revelation

The kids weren't familiar with the ideas as characteristics of Quakerism, so I assume that it just hasn't been presented to them in this manner, or that it has and they forgot. Possibly both. I ran out of time before I could cover the Testimonies.

I stumbled across this article from Slate which makes mention of the "Jefferson Bible" a version of the New Testament from which Thomas Jefferson "excised every verse dealing with virgin birth, miracles, resurrection, and other puerile superstition..." It's worth checking out the Amazon.com page for the book's spotlight reviews and look for one by R. Hardy "Rob Hardy."

The first sentences of Jefferson's Bible have to do with Joseph and Mary going to Bethlehem to be taxed. There is no Annunciation, indeed, no implication that Jesus had any sort of miraculous birth; Jefferson distrusted miracles. Having seen the beginning, I turned to the final pages; I knew how the story turned out, you see, so I did not really risk ruining it for myself. The end is just as worldly; "They rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed."
I'm not sure why I should find it stunning that someone would think to collect the essence of the life of Jesus, which to me would be his teachings not the miraculous events, and publish it. Of course, Jefferson apparently didn't publish it, but kept it as a secret guilty pleasure he read from nightly.

I wonder if this is worthy of being taught from in First Day School?

On Tuesday evening, I joined some friends to view the first disk in the Bill Moyers PBS series "Faith and Reason." The hour-long interview was with Salman Rushdie, who was eloquent, witty, and sometimes a little glib. I have all kinds of feeling bouncing around in my head. I have some unformed Queries I'd like to write centering around appeasement, debate and discussion as freedom, and blind-spots.

Attended a class tonight taught by JanaR, centering on the topics of prayer and fasting. To be honest, most of the time was spent on prayer issues. I assume that everyone else in the class was Mormon, which isn't my tradition, of course. There was a fair amount of time spent discussing the issue of vocalization of prayer (again, not my tradition) which I found bizarre. Not the practice of vocalization of prayers, which is probably the predominant way to pray, but that someone would think that prayer or worship would require vocalization, not just a prayerful state of mind. To be honest, worshipful silence is outside of most people's experience.

Whew, that's a busy 100 hours.