A Christian Perspective on the Health Care Overhaul

Right out of the gate let me be painfully clear about my intentions here. I'm making no claim that this post represents THE christian perspective on the health care debate. I possess neither the pride, brazen arrogance, nor self-assuredness to state that this post is the "biblical" or God-ordained view. Frankly, I don't think there is a biblical view on this issue. While the Bible is our inspired, authoritative text on all that it addresses, this is but one of the countless issues that writers nearly 2,000 years ago couldn't possibly have foreseen; that is, Holy Scripture is authoritative but not exhaustive. Therefore, I will state that this post is neither biblical nor unbiblical, but non-biblical. It represents the effort of but one sincere Christian to discerningly live his faith in love, humility, compassion, and an admittedly limited grasp of truth. Though many are certain to critique this post from every which way imaginable, if they are a brother or sister in the Lord then I hope they will respond in similar fashion.

These past few days especially I've heard a lot of Christians say that this issue is fundamentally about their individual rights and their individual private property. As one of my dear friend wrote to me, "Who is the government to tell me how I should spend my hard earned money? What gives them the right to dictate my life?" To this person and so many other Christians holding similar thoughts I would say this: On a moral/spiritual level, it's not all about YOU! If one is healthy and doesn't need this insurance, then he ought to count his blessings and take joy in the fact that the money he's paying will help save others' lives. It seems abundantly clear to me that American Christians need to care less about preserving their own money and more about helping others; that they've uncritically bought hook, line, and sinker into the sinful American presuppositions of unabashed, individualistic selfishness and greed. I don't mean to be Capt'n Obvious, but some things are more important than money.

In the past I've posed a question to quite a few of my friends that infuriated and offended many of them for weeks, months, and even years. Yet as so many of them have later come back and thanked me for having the balls to call them out, I'll now pose the question to those Christians I've been critiquing: Are YOU believing, thinking, and behaving more as an American or more as a Christian?

As for the political science dimension, I think there are valid questions to be asked of by who's authority the government can decide to force people to buy health insurance? If you've discussed this whole issue much at all I'm sure you've encountered the car insurance analogy. Personally I think that metaphor is limited unless, of course, one wants to be consistent with it by saying that in the same way one isn't legally able to drive on the roads without car insurance, so one shouldn't be able to go to the doctor without health insurance. But regardless of that analogy's merit, let's move beyond it. The question I started this paragraph off with is the key issue. And that question ultimately is about property rights.

By starting the discussion with property rights I think a lot of Christians have mis-framed the issue. They're getting ahead of themselves by starting with Point B. I would now like to quote from the Declaration of Independence, that document that stated both the reasons the colonies' break from England and the Founding Fathers' most fundamental political beliefs. I'm skipping ahead to the beginning of the second paragraph, which I believe is most pertinent to this issue:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness."

I would remind you that underlying our property rights, and indeed our entire political structure, is the belief "that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." Take special note of "life," for there's a good reason for its being stated first in that list: It's the prerequisite for all else. Without life, there cannot be liberty nor the pursuit of happiness, much less property rights.

Now some will object, saying, "Carson, it doesn't say that everyone is equal. It says we were created equal. Saying that everyone should be equal is Marxism." This general criticism has been offered by my friends three times in as many days, so it's clearly something that's important for me to address.

I would suggest that the above line of reasoning blurs an important distinction. Within our democratic form of government it's true that all citizens don't possess the right of having the same stature or position in life--wealth, educational opportunity, social status, etc.--but they do have equal rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That is, while the metaphorical seeds of our lives differ, we all share the same soil in which those seeds are planted. That's one of the things we love and enjoy about this country, right? Not all have the opportunity to become a thousand year old Red Wood, but all have the right to grow into whatever tree they're able. If a sick child is born to a poor family, I contend that that child should have the same opportunity at mere life as the rich family's child. I don't understand why God allows some to live and others to die. From my limited human perspective it simply seems unfair. But so far as it's within our power we should at least try to be fair in giving everyone the same shot to preserve their life.

Over the past year I've often been shocked if not horrified by my friends' facebook status updates. Here's one example: "this isn't about 'the right to life' or about saving some kid's life it's about our Constitutional right to spend our own money how we please!!!!!!!!!!! maybe if the parents had worked harder......" This from a Christian and a friend. My heart is heavy. Do these people even realize what they're saying? What such conservative ideologues are implicitly saying to those sick children is this: "It sucks when they're born to poor and/or lazy parents and come down with something like cancer. It really does. But that ain't our problem. If the family can't afford to help 'em, the kid should die. Who is the government to take my money away to help someone else?" (If you or anyone else who reads the next sentence is offended by my use of profanity, all I can tell you is that I use it with intentionality because sometimes such words are the only thing that can convey the message.) Pardon my French, but here's the cliff notes version of that sentiment: "Fuck 'em. I don't care." And we talk so much about children in these sorts of situations because it seems to create more compassion and sympathy in even the most calloused of hearts, but why should we have any more compassion on that child who comes down with cancer than, say, a 40-year-old woman? Are not all people? Are all not made in God's image? It simply baffles me how Christians can tell people that, sorry, but they have to die because we want less taken out of our paychecks.

The bill that President Obama signed into law today will create an quite admittedly (at least by me) imperfect health care system. Yet for all of its weaknesses it remains a fact that this new system is designed to ensure that all people have an equal opportunity to life. Regardless of who is lazy and who worked hard, it's tragic that there are many in this country who are dying of treatable illnesses. It's a tragedy that patients are being dropped from their coverage at the moment of their greatest need and that people with preexisting conditions are unable to get coverage. As a person with Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic condition that may well abbreviate my life, I'm thankful to know that no matter what happens to me I will now always have access to medical treatment. I'm thankful that healthy people, like many of those reading this post, will pay to save the lives of sick people like me. Thank you. I agree that people must always be on guard at Step B: The government's infringement upon people's rights. Nevertheless, before that is Step A: The preservation of the people's lives.

I would also remind my readers that the Founding Fathers knew all too well that a society without a moral foundation would fail. (Another wonderful point those to my left are loathe to acknowledge.) They also knew that people working solely for their own individual good would fail collectively. It was their belief that the people must work together for the common good and for the betterment of all. In all sincerity I cannot think of a more essential moral issue for the common good than the preservation of life, which this present bill does by both guarding the unborn (through the executive order) and helping with the medical needs of those who could not otherwise afford it. I won't argue that this bill is without major flaws, but I will argue that it speaks to the most basic, most essential issue in all political science: life.

Finally, I would offer a point that hopefully will cause people to step back and think. Nobody on either polarity wants to admit this, but really what the country is really fighting over is a) excellent health care for most (i.e. those who can afford it) or b) decent health care for all. Really, that's it. For a bit of social commentary, of course those who can afford it don't want it to change. Do we expect anything else? A lesson from sociology that is proven throughout history is that those on top are rarely interested in overhauling the system if it will lessen their economic wealth, political power, or cultural influence. I think of such examples as King George III and parliament before the American Revolution, the clergy and nobility before the French Revolution, the meat packing corporations before Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, Tsar Nicholas II before the Bolshevik Revolution, and Southern whites before the Civil Rights Movement. The peaceful end of apartheid in South Africa--where the powerful minority willingly stepped down and were subsequently forgiven--defies most sociological theory and is truly is a rare event in history.

This is where American Christians' lack of theological mooring has allowed them to be led astray. They've so uncritically embraced their cultural, political, and economic norms that they're unable to see that the fall left us in a condition where we naturally suffer from greed and a thirst for power. Like the Crusaders a thousand years ago, they passionately fight for just the opposite of such christian virtues as mercy, charity, and self-denial all the while claiming to defend God's will. Rather than denying themselves and taking up their cross, they fight for their rights and for their self-preservation.

In evangelical historian Mark Noll's little book Adding Cross to Crown he makes an astute observation. In utilizing the metaphors of the cross (Christ's suffering) and the crown (Christ's reign), he notes that all throughout Church history Christians have emphasized the cross when they've been the persecuted minority but, almost miraculously and without fail, they emphasize the crown when they become the majority and/or the political/economic leaders. The former approach is marked by an emphasis on heaven, forgiveness, humility, temperance, and hope for the future. The latter approach is marked by an emphasis on hell, condemnation, pride, indulgence, and fear for the future. Make no mistake that we American Christians fall into the second camp. We've become so accustomed to power, wealth, prestige, and influence that don't even recognize our own weaknesses. Like a junkfoodaholic who feel crummy all the time yet hasn't the foggiest clue why, we Christians have not only taken in but celebrated this country's crap for so long that we haven't the foggiest clue why the Christians behave remarkably like everyone else. Seems to me it all stems from one issue: We believe, think, and behave more as Americans than as Christians.

In conclusion, I would ask all of you one simple question: Most of you espouse that your views on health care flow from or at least align with your christian faith, but has your thinking on this issue been reflective of the cross or the crown?

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Addendum: Discussion Questions

As Christians can we all agree that it's good that...

• People with preexisting conditions will be able to purchase health insurance?
  
• Insurance companies won't be able to drop people's coverage when they get sick?
  
• There will no longer be annual or lifetime restrictions on the amount of health care a person can receive?
  
• All people will receive preventive care?
  

No doubt we will continue to disagree on a great deal, but perhaps if we can agree on just those four things we'll have something to build on. I will hope against hope that this will be the case.

Doin' It, Doin' It, and Doin' It Well: An Evangelical Protestant Critique of Roman Catholic Clerical Celibacy

Title courtesy of LL Cool J

If you've not heard, there's yet another wave of sexual abuse claims being made against Catholic priests. Only this time it's switched continents to Europe. As a evangelical Protestant, I cannot help but shake my head in disgust. Basic biology tells me that Rome's mandate on clerical celibacy is not unlike putting a kettle of water on the stove and expecting it not to whistle. This policy is simply impractical and irresponsible. It's only with the utmost solemnity that I say that I find the Vatican to be culpable, albeit indirectly, for these grave offenses.

Unlike most evangelicals, I'm not one to throw the baby out with the bathwater in a faddish, reactionary manner. In our cultural context most people find the mere notion of celibacy to be absurd, or pathetic. I find such perspectives to be short-sighted, shallow, and ultimately unbiblical. There is a rich history of both lay and clerical celibacy within the Church. With clergy particularly in mind, there is something profound about the actions of a person who has willingly forsaken such simple earthly please as spousal love and marital intimacy to give himself wholly the the Church. It echoes Christ's love for His Bride in a way I can only describe as beautiful. Nevertheless, such blind idealism much be balanced by historical realities (e.g. how many popes have had concubines?) and biblical teachings.

I'm not usually one to go around Bible thumping and talking about the "clear" teachings of Scripture--quite often they're not nearly so clear as many would suggest--but I believe this is an occasion in which Holy Scripture's teachings on this matter are, well, painfully obvious. In 1 Corinthians 7:1 St. Paul taught that it was preferable for a Christian not to marry. Yet in the very next verse he says that because of the reality of sexual immorality both men and women should be married. In verse 5 we see that there is a time to abstain for explicitly spiritual purposes, but after that period a husband and wife should come back together. The apostle openly acknowledges that this is a concession rather than the ideal, but given the realities that exist he says they should marry if they lack self-control. Again, he wishes that all were able to celibate as he is, but men and women should marry rather than burn with lustful passion. To be perfectly candid, HAS NO ONE IN THE VATICAN READ THIS PASSAGE?! Seriously, it's so spot on that it's almost as if Paul wrote this expressly for them.

The right course of action couldn't possibly be more obvious to me. Follow my logic:

(A) Celibacy is the best option so that people may devote themselves to the Church, but
(B) there is a strong provision of marriage for those who cannot control themselves. In such cases,
(C) the person should marry.

By definition a Catholic priest is one who has sought to fully devote himself to the Church meets criteria (A). We also have ample evidence illustrating that many of said priests meet the criteria for (B). According to biblical teaching, then, the only tenable conclusion is (C), that such priests should marry. So why does the Vatican refuse to heed St. Paul's direction and insist upon its long-standing policy of mandated clerical celibacy? That's the key question in my mind. This is going to sound like a harsh critique, but I'm going to put forth what appears to be the only possible answer because I believe it's the truth.

The Catholic Church obviously has its own unique understanding of ecclesiastical authority. Protestants hold that Scripture is authoritative for the Church over and above tradition and a magisterium whereas Catholics hold that Scripture was written by the Church and must therefore be interpreted by the Church; thus their view that ecclesiastical authority is something like a three-legged stool with Scripture, Tradition, and Apostolic Succession (i.e. the papacy) working together. While my inability to accept papal infallibility is the chief reason preventing my conversion to Rome, I do have great sympathy for the dilemma between Scripture and tradition. (It's simply a dishonest and/or naive person who thinks tradition doesn't guide their biblical interpretation.) In this particular instance, if only Rome would truly take tradition seriously then they would see that there is, at the very least, a first and second century precedent for married clergy. (Admittedly, the concept of a formal clergy becomes anachronistic the further one goes back.) I mean no disrespect to (most of) my Catholic brothers and sisters, but what I'm instead seeing is the Vatican guarding its precious tradition. No, this isn't a matter of papal infallibility since clerical celibacy is a discipline rather than doctrine, but the practical reality is that changing this discipline would have much the same effect of changing a central doctrine. It would be a recognition of the fact that a long-standing position of the Roman Catholic Church was, at the very least, insufficient or, at the worst, simply errant. Rome in particular doesn't like to admit being wrong (e.g. it took over 500 years for them to admit some fault in Reformation schism).

So what is my answer to that question? Why does the Vatican refuse to heed St. Paul's direction and insist upon its long-standing policy of mandated clerical celibacy? In my estimate, it all boils down to the self-inflated, prideful ignorance of the Vatican; that is, the greatest reason (I can see) for the Vatican not to follow St. Paul's clear teaching is the Vatican's simple pride and errant view of Church tradition. The Vatican wants to look a lot holier and have this sense of continuity which doesn't jive well with admitting fault. As an evangelical Protestant I'll be the first to point out the myriad of faults within my own ambiguous tradition, so I'm not just railing against the Catholic Church in an unbalanced manner. But this is one of those areas where Rome can learn something from us. Tradition can and should be used to interpret Scripture, but it ought not be seen as authoritative standard over and above Scripture that musts be guarded and maintained at all costs.

Quite often I get people asking me what the purpose is for my posts. "Practically, how does this impact us in our daily lives?" It's a stretch for people to grasp that the issues I regularly explore are the foundation upon which so many "practical" doctrines are built. This is not one of those cases, though. The obvious reality of this situation is that Rome's stubborn refusal to amend its position on clerical celibacy has directly contributed if not wholly caused the sexual abuse of countless women and children. Time and again it apologizes for the priests' tragic failures while insisting that these instances are the rare exceptions rather than the rule. The apologies are appreciated and, fortunately, I can agree that these instances are the exception. The problem is that they are not, in fact, the rare exception. If these scandals have taught us anything it's that. At some point rather than yet another round of apology and restitution they have to address the root cause. Sexual abuse is the symptom. Mandated clerical celibacy is the disease.

In part I understand the slow response. It's biblical to rely upon the Spirit's work overcome temptation, but it's also biblical to not put a stumbling block in front of someone. Rome's policy fosters a situation in which many of its priests continually burn the fuse of sexual temptation and occasionally they the bomb goes off. As a Christian I affirm that each individual is ultimately responsible for his or her own conduct regardless of circumstances, but make no mistake that until this policy changes Rome is, at the minimum, indirectly culpable for the ongoing sexual abuse because their policy doesn't align with Paul's teaching.

Celibacy should be strongly encouraged among both lay members and clergy, but it should not be mandated for anyone lest they burn with passion and are unable to exercise self-control.

Addendum

Having chatted this over with my proof-reading wife, she offered some excellent critiques and insights that I want to mention/address. Rather than rewrite the whole thing, I'm just adding it at the end:

• Critique: Since Catholics don't believe in birth control, married priests would have a lot of children and wouldn't be able to devote themselves in the same way to the Church whereas a Protestant pastor can be married and choose to not have children, which allows them to invest more time. This helps explain a little more why they push celibacy to the degree that they do.
  
• Response: Not gonna lie, that's a good critique. All I would say is that first century leaders seemed to be able to overcome that problem, as did 16th century figures like Martin Luther. Married clergy with kids may not be optimal, but, if I may be forthright, surely it's preferable to horny priests committing sexual abuse. I won't say that this is a case of facing the lesser of two evils, but it is that sort of dilemma.
  

• Critique: We have such a romanticized view of marriage and love that we don't want to think about marrying in order to not burn with lust, i.e. marrying for sex. There is a profound cultural resistance to the idea of getting married to fulfill sexual needs.
  
• Response: Again, this is not ideal but the reality is that sometimes that's necessary. That certainly seems to be the thrust of Paul's argument. I don't see love something up anywhere in 1 Corinthians 7:1-10. (The philosophical folks are going to accuse me of making an argument from silence, and I'm OK with that. I think that's a stupid fallacy, anyway. I question it's legitimacy.) So many times we contemporary Western Christians criticize those who get married in large part for physical reasons because we say it leads to divorce, but this doesn't have to be so. It seems to me that the problem isn't marrying to fulfill sexual needs; the problem is that we think the marriage covenant is soluble.
  

• Critique: From the Catholic perspective, if they're called to be priests then God will grant them the ability to overcome their sexual temptation. If not, they're not supposed to be priests.
  
• Response: This, I think, is a valid logical fallacy: false dichotomy. Do we not remember that St. Peter (who, I might add, is Catholicism's basis for apostolic succession and papal authority) had a wife? (See: Matthew 8:14, Mark 1:30, Luke 4:38. Hard to have a mother-in-law without a wife...) I think this is anachronistic and bogus, but from a Catholic perspective that means the first pope had a wife. Doesn't that invalidate mandated clerical celibacy? Furthermore, leaders in the first century church had wives and Protestants and Orthodox do, too. It's not like this hasn't been done and done effectively.
  

Movie Review: Valkyrie

Yet another WWII movie. (Can we collectively agree that without some truly unique storytelling this genre has been completely exhausted?) The twist is that this one wasn't about the war itself, but about an internal attempt to end the war.

The film depicts a courageous group of German military and political leaders who attempted the most famous of the assassination attempts on Hitler. It was a movie of suspense and political intrigue suffering from a tragic flaw: we all pretty much know by now Germany lost the war and Hitler committed suicide, right? I'm sure that if you didn't know that little nugget of information this film would have been absolutely gripping. As it stands, not so much.

Not to be Captain Obvious, but it’s difficult to make a movie suspenseful when the audience already knows the ending. In a movie like Saving Private Ryan, for example, the question wasn’t whether or not the Allied Forces would win the war, but whether the characters would fulfill their mission and survive. Whereas in Valkyrie you knew that in both cases the answer was a resounding no. As a result, it felt like the whole film was just going through the motions.

I don’t recall ever having had this critique of a movie before, but in my opinion it was simply the wrong genre in which to convey the material. If it had been an intense, character-based film exploring the conspirators’ psychological turmoil and philosophical motivations it could have been riveting. Likewise, it’s not hard to imagine how a great documentary cold have been made about these men. Perhaps even a story contrasting the German soldiers’ deaths on the front lines with the simultaneous attempts of the conspirators to stop those deaths from within Berlin. That would have thrown in the wrench of making us feel truly sorry for the German soldiers. Shoot, even as a thriller it could have been good if there would been some sort of giant, unexpected plot twist like Hitler surviving because one of the conspirators betraying the others. Something like that. As it was I became increasingly apathetic as the plot unfolded.

All things considered the movie wasn’t particularly bad. It was produced well. The costumes and sets were well done. The acting was pretty good. Some might see this as a negative, but I rather appreciated that the actors didn’t even attempt German accents. Better to have no accents at all than crappy, distracting ones. As for Scientology-boy, I can’t really say that he added to or subtracted from the film. He was just kind of there.

Overall I give it 3/5 stars. Certainly not unwatchable, but not re-watchable, either.

History, Sociology, Health Care; Personal Frustration

Nobody on either polarity wants to admit this, but really what the country is really fighting over is a) excellent health care for most, i.e. those who can afford it, or b) decent health care for all. Really, that's it. And for a bit of social commentary, of course those who can afford it don't want it to change. Do we expect anything else? A lesson from sociology that is proven throughout history is that those on top are rarely interested in overhauling the system if it will lessen their political power, economic wealth, or cultural influence. I think of such examples as King George III and parliament before the American Revolution, the clergy and nobility before the French Revolution, the meat packing corporations before Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, Tsar Nicholas II before the Bolshevik Revolution, and Southern whites before the Civil Rights Movement. The peaceful end of apartheid in South Africa--where the powerful minority willingly stepped down and were subsequently forgiven--defies most sociological theory and is truly is a rare event in history.

The honest truth is that most people, regardless of whether they're conservatives or liberals, are one-siders. They can see the world from only one perspective: their own. They have only an emic (insider's) perspective. They not two-siders--people who are able to see the world with both an emic and an etic (outsider's) perspective. Whether it's a natural condition or self-inflicted I don't know, but most people are unable/unwilling to initially stand back from their own view; they don't seek to understand and sympathize with others' experiences, beliefs, and views. Their view is narrow. The weight of all of reality rests upon this very moment. Their fervency reigns supreme. Their passion is not tempered by a larger view of the world. The people on the top cannot or will not understand the people on the bottom. The people on the bottom cannot or will not understand the people on the top. Both sides think that anyone who disagrees with them is stupid, if not worse. Just about everyone follows the predictable patterns as though their beliefs, opinions, and perspective was wholly determined by their own experiences. They believe they're thinking for themselves when in reality they're just going through the motions--doing exactly what their lives would lead them to think. I don't expect everyone to agree at the end of the day, but it sure would be nice if there were more two-siders who could see beyond themselves and at least make an effort to try and understand the other side.

Sigh.

Discussion of Dietrich Bonhoeffer on WRAF

Since this past June I've been subjected to countless hours of hermeneutically challenged radio preachers, historically ignorant political ideologues, unscientific "scientific" polls, insular/fundamentalist culture, unbalanced nationalism, warmongering, migraine inducing Southern Gospel, and so forth. Thank you, WRAF. (I often feel like Bill from Eek the Cat: 'When... does the hurting... stop?') Just to make it through the day I've often had to vent a little bit via facebook status updates. Here are a few of my personal favorites:

• I'm convinced that Southern Gospel is from the devil.
• [Carson Clark] is having a hard time believing that they really think non-Christians who've never stepped foot in a church building are listening to this stuff. Sure, go ahead and say the station is a helpful for discipleship and growth. Whatever. But don't tell me it's for evangelism. It ain't the '30s anymore, gents.
  
• You ever notice that radio personalities on christian radio stations often say, "The latest scientific research indicates…" or "Recent studies have shown that…" yet they rarely if ever cite their sources whereas NPR, for example, always says, "A recently concluded four-year study by the Yale Institute for…"?
• I don't know which is worse, the effeminate or the hick songs. I'll have to give that some thought.
• This music makes me want to pray and ask God to miraculously make me deaf. Oy vey.
  
• "The Bible says that we need to trust, let go of our wealth, and give it to Him. It's also a great way to feel like you're putting others above yourself." Yeah, you see the next line coming. "We'd encourage you to make a donation to WRAF today." How convenient.
• "I see 3 possibilities: 1) Conservative radio preachers have never taken a course in hermeneutics, 2) they've chosen to ignore/forget everything they were taught, or 3) they were tragically taught to completely ignore the biblical text's cultural-historical context while interpreting & preaching it. Which do you suppose it is?"
  

It really has nothing to do with WRAF specifically, though. I had the exact same frustrations with KTIS back in Minnesota. (Well, the Southern Gospel is different, but other than that...) The major difference is that I never had to listen to KTIS for more than a few minutes at a time. Regardless, it's the whole premise of conservative "*christian radio" that bothers me. I dislike the homeletical style of the preachers, the glorification of piety to the exclusion of rigorous thought, the hostile "them" vs. "us" tenor, the absolute certitude with which everything is taught, the prostitution of Christ's Bride to a temporal political agenda, the fear-inducing eschatological emphasis, and the dearth of cultural and artistic creativity. This is harsh, but the honest truth is that these stations reflect everything that, in my mind, is wrong with evangelicalism--only in a concentrated form. Christian radio is to conservative evangelicalism as caffeine is to energy drinks. Almost every second I've heard of these stations' programming has been irritating, nauseating, and/or infuriating. Never captivating... until today!

The days when my boss is out the office manager tends to crank up the radio. Today was such a day. I was bracing myself for the worst, only to hear some show's host say (paraphrasing), "Today we'll be talking about a 20th century theologian who few of us know, but whose life and work can be a great inspiration to we evangelicals today." My ears perked up. What's this? Talk of a theologian? Had they said "biblical expert" I would have been intrigued enough, but they busted out the big guns and used the fancy word. What is more, rather than dumbing it down to the lowest common denominator the host implicitly suggested that the audience needs to raise themselves up--to learn. I was as giddy as a little school girl. Then he said, "Dietrich Bonhoeffer" and my jaw dropped. No kidding, I actually thought I must have misheard him. It didn't even register that I may have heard him correctly. Then the host introduced his guest and immediately there it was again. Dietrich Bonhoeffer! I was beside myself in a moment of sheer joy.

After a few seconds I was able to temper my enthusiasm with a dose of caution. I posted this as my status update: "Dietrich Bonhoeffer. First such program I've heard on the station, so I'm encouraged. Although it's a little ironic that they're praising him so much considering Bonhoeffer was considered liberal by his conservative, American contemporaries. I'm interested to see if that'll come out." This was all too good to be true. I figured there had to be a letdown coming up. Wait for it... Joy again! I added this comment: "Whoa, this dude is talking positively about Barth!! Am I still in Toccoa?" Here were my next four comments:

• The host just praised the Confessing Church in WWII-era Germany for being Christians first and Germans second. Interesting. I wonder if he'd be consistent and say American Christians should do the same. Hmmmm...
• He downplayed Bonhoeffer's liberalism, but the dude being interviewed just acknowledged that Bonhoeffer's theology was influenced by Protestant Liberalism and that he was never conservative. Interesting. I wonder if he would praise those contemporary American theologians who hold to positions that align a great deal with Bonhoeffer. Hmmmm...
• Sweet googily moogily they're talking about Neo-Orthodoxy, and they're not bashing it!!
• The program concluded by saying that evangelicals have a lot to learn from Bonhoeffer. Someone grab a defibrillator. I'm going into shock!

One of my personal life philosophies is to first commend that which is commendable, then critique that which ought to be critiqued. The vast majority of the time I'm able to simultaneously see the good and the bad in everything, so I try to start with the good. Unfortunately, to be perfectly honest, I've not had much of anything positive to say about WRAF. Today's program changed that, though. So while my method of commending then critiquing has been inverted, I would like to offer a few positive words toward WRAF.

Today's 30 minute discussion about Dietrich Bonhoeffer was fabulous. I'm afraid I don't know either of their names, but both the host and interviewee were knowledgeable yet accessible, passionate yet thoughtful, critical yet charitable, balanced yet full of conviction, pious yet cognitively astute. It was not only without question the best program I've ever heard on a christian radio station, it reached the same echelon as the best radio programming I've personally ever heard, whether sacred or secular. If there was anything else I could think to write that would give them higher praise, I most certainly would. I commend the station for its excellence over that 30 minute slot and encourage it to do more of the same in the future. Way to go, WRAF!

*Still can't stand the word "Christian" being used as an adjective instead of a noun. A Christian is a person, not a type of thing. Thus, my refusal to capitalize the word when using it as a descriptor.

So... I don't know how to read, Part IV

To be honest, I was disappointed when I finished reading Sally Shaywitz's book. The purpose of it was to be an informational overview of dyslexia that both debunked misconceptions and gave hope to those facing this behemoth challenge. She succeeded on all accounts, so I can't say that it wasn't a good book or that she didn't achieve what she set out for. What disappointed me is that so little of it was applicable to my situation. I can hardly blame her, though. Approximately 20% of the total U.S. population has difficulty learning to read. Of that group, a lesser number struggle bad enough that they'd be identified and tested. Those who are officially diagnosed as dyslexics generally receive a lot of help in school or they enter adulthood. Of the remaining individuals who fall through the cracks, most tend to remain so impaired that they are basically illiterate. What that means in terms of sheer demographics is that the dyslexics like me--those who have not only managed, but have excelled academically or otherwise--are few and far between. We're the weirdos that nobody quite knows what to do with.

In the concluding chapters Shaywitz emphasized the importance of being proactive, both parents in getting their kids help and adults getting themselves help. Concerning the former, that's good to know in case my wife and I ever have kids. Concerning the latter, she wrote an entire chapter about the growing availability of adult learning classes. As I've been doing research, however, it has become apparent that I've already surpassed the proficiency level those programs are aimed at achieving. What this means is that there aren't programs available that would help me, or they're so rare that I can't find them. Crap.

It was abundantly clear all throughout the book that Dr. Shaywitz is an optimist. She's all about helping those who are struggling, instilling hope in those who are down. That's good and all, but I gotta tell ya nothing is more depressing than when even an optimist has no hope for you. In several places she basically conceded that people with dyslexia aren't going to be able to fulfill the language requirements of many academic programs. Crap, crap.

I've still not figured out what I want to do my graduate work in, but I've got it narrowed down to history, theology, political science, cultural studies, or some interdisciplinary program combining a few of them. Minor problem: both history and theology will definitively require language study. Recently I've also be reconsidering the ordination route, but that too requires languages. (*Unless, of course, I can convince someone that even St. Augustine couldn't learn Greek, so there needs to be room for special exceptions.) Crap, crap, crap.

Now that I'm in the midst of utter despair I figure it's time for another Billy Madison clip. It really has nothing to do with this post other than the fact that it's strangely academically motivational...

One thing I know is that I'm not going down without a fight. French never stopped sounding like a bunch of gibberish last year, which wholly convinced me that there's no way I'm going to learn to speak a foreign language sans divine intervention. Yet I've not given up hope that I might be able to learn a dead language or two such as ancient Hebrew, Koine Greek, or Latin. At least learn 'em well enough to pass the classes and take over Madison Hotels, anyway.

So I hatched a crazy scheme. Since I still work at a Bible college, I asked one of the profs if he'd be willing to help me take a stab at the most rudimentary levels of one of these dead languages. See if I've even got a shot. That's the plan for the next few months. We shall see what happens...

I'd appreciate prayers for that.

Final thought:

On a pretty much unrelated note, in the past week I've had a number of people remark about how I've developed a love for reading despite being dyslexic. Sorry to be Bob Bummer, but that's just not true. I’ve become convinced of the importance of reading for my growth both spiritually and intellectually. I enjoy the consequences of reading, by which I mean having the raw data to work with. I’ve gotten better at reading, so it’s not quite as exhausting/excruciating as it once was. I can appreciation the artistic dimension—the creativity and poetic beauty—expressed in such works as Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or even the way Mark Noll's The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind. (Yes, even formal academic works can be written in a beautiful manner.) I’ve identified my visual learning style, so I recognize that most of what I learn will come through reading. (Yes, this makes me a weirdo among weirdos.) And I’ve come to a point where I find reading to be immensely rewarding. But do I like to read? Do I enjoy the process of actually doing it? Have I acquired a taste for reading? On all accounts, absolutely not. Reading remains and likely always will be a burden of love and an act of sacrificial worship.

The Insanity of Acquiring a Taste for Beer, Part II

At the behest of many friends I tried some more beer last night. I drank everything that was in front of me, whether it was a sample size, glass, or a bottle. And now I have a confession to make: I was surprised by the variety of flavors, textures, and appearances. Having given this a rather good bit of thought, I’ve come up with a description for each:

• Guinness Draught - This is the first beer I'd ever had, so I thought I'd try it again. You know, trying to acquire a taste for it... I'd say it was creamy, flavorful, and drinkable--if by drinkable one means the drinkability of fermented cat piss.
  
• Sam Adams: Boston Lager - Hearty. In some way... warming? I'd say it tasted like fermented mull piss.
  
• Blue Moon - Almost fruity. Definitely had the flavor of fermented monkey piss.
• New Castle Brown Ale - I want to say I heard a beer called "earthy" one time. Yeah, I'd say that fits here. Tasted like fermented groundhog piss. By the way, this one was the full package as it smelled like groundhog piss, too. Just an all-around lovely experience.
  
• Yuengling’s Traditional Lager - Light and smooth. The word "agile" comes to mind. Best description I can come up with is fermented squirrel piss.
• Heineken Dark Lager - Strong and rich. This was the only beer whose description came to mind even as the glass was still raised for the first taste. Without question it tastes like fermented gorilla piss.
• Budweiser - I know, I know. Everyone said this was a disgrace to beerdom, but I thought I should at least try the thing so as to have an informed opinion and I'm glad I did. I think that aforementioned co-worker was insightful to a degree not even he understood. Whereas the premium beers taste like some sort of animal piss, the traditional American beers taste like shit. That's a key distinction to be made. I'll be careful to use it when speaking about beer in the future. Anyway, after choking down that Budweiser I decided it tastes like sun-dried goat shit.

(For those out there worried that I'm unspiritual or that I've committed a sin by getting drunk, I didn't even get buzzed. Kinda sad, actually. Still not had that experience and probably never will.)

As I used up three weeks of my budgeted fun money to partake of the diverse flavors of urine found throughout the animal kingdom, I've made three corresponding decisions. First, if any of my beer drinking friends--not the ones who are merely OK with drinking, but those who regularly spend money to do so--ever complain about having no money, I will show them zero sympathy. It's an expensive hobby. Complaining about not having money while buying a lot of beer is as idiotic as the spending habits of a poor smoker. Second, never again will I be proactive about trying beer. Doing so would be like that stupid kid who hurls after the Gravitron, then returns the next day and saying, "I think I'm gonna get it another go. Surely it can't have been as bad as I remember. Everyone loves it!" Third, if ever I drink another beer someone else is paying for it. We're not talking about subsidization now, but 100% funding. I'm not spending another dime on that fermented animal piss. This was without question the single dumbest way I've ever spent $27. By the way, I'm in some serious need of some Beano. This is unnatural. Wasn't aware of this side effect.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lament from the Porcelain Throne that I didn't spend that money on a Mark Noll book.

The Insanity of Acquiring a Taste for Beer

In yesterday's blog post I made a derogatory comment about beer. Specifically, I said it tastes like fermented ass. This comment spurred on a few subtle threats, all in jest. I hope. Then another one of my buddies offered his sympathy. He explained, "As for your feelings on beer, I know how you feel because that's what I thought when I first tried beer. I was like who poured cat piss in a bottle and gave it to me?" Hilarious. When future situations arise in which I need to explain why I don't drink beer, I've decided to utilize a hybrid of his and my own description: fermented cat piss. Yep, that about captures it.

After I'd laughed about that one for a good minute or so I went on reading the rest of his comment. It read, "But I kept trying it and I got to the point where I drank it socially. Like if a group of guys were hanging out and talking I would have one. I guess you could call it a male bonding ritual. But I've drank it so much now that I thoroughly enjoy it. Keep trying it." Whoa. Hold up. Let's follow that progression of thought Matthew Henry style: 1) The first time he drank beer he thought someone had offered him a bottle of cat piss. 2) Yet he kept drinking it until he was able to drink it socially. 3) When he gets together with a group of guys he'll drink one as something of a unifying social experience. 4) He has now drunk so much of it that he thoroughly enjoys it. 5) So I should keep drinking it... Excuse me?

The only thing more baffling than his reasoning is the fact that this is the consensus view among my friends. I mean, seriously, am I the only one sane person around? When I taste something that is absolutely horrendous--so bad, in fact, that the best descriptor I can come up with to describe its flavor is "fermented cat piss"--I gotta tell ya that's not an experience I'm all too enthusiastic about reliving. It's simply unnatural for a man to think, 'Hmmmmm. This is a unique beverage. It ranks right up there with the time I accidentally drank chunky, three month old milk. But, I don't know, maybe if I drink enough of it I'll come to appreciate the unique flavor. After all, everybody says they like it... Pass me another one!" I'm sorry, but I can think of no more delicate, tactful way to put this:

IF IT TASTES LIKE FREAKING CAT PISS, THERE SHOULD BE NO TALKING YOURSELF INTO DRINKING IT!!

On a fairly regular basis a co-worker starts up a conversation by asking what kind of beer I drink. When I tell them I don't drink it, everyone immediately assumes I'm an uptight fundamentalist, which then leads to my little spiel that, no, I don't have any religious reasons against alcohol; no, there's not a family history I'm worried about; no, I'm not offended if others drink. Every single time I tell them I don't drink solely because it tastes awful I get the same peculiar look. Just yesterday I got the opportunity to bust out my fermented cat piss reference for the first time. When that typical look of utter disbelief came over his face I thought he wasn't going to believe me about not having religious convictions against it. Instead he looked me straight in the eyes and with complete seriousness said, "Yeah. Of course it takes like shit. It will right away. You've got to give it a chance." Am I missing something? Call me crazy, but there's something innately unappealing about drinking something that my friends and co-workers regularly describe as tasting like feline urine and fecal matter. Just can't put my finger on it...

This has got to be the absolute height of insanity.

Driscoll on Feminine Church Culture

I've been in a real cognitive funk for the past couple weeks, so I'll apologize beforehand for this not being my most lucid post...

Mark Driscoll has recently caused quite a stir by criticizing the "chickified leaders" in our churches and the overall feminine culture. To the complementarian crowd, his comments have been taken as something of a rallying call. They're tired of the politically correct glorification of femininity accompanied by the public denigration of masculinity. To the egalitarian crowd, his comments bring us back to patriarchal chauvinism. If you scour the blogosphere looking into this whole thing, you'll find that the term misogynist is being thrown around quite a bit. As I'm reading all this stuff I'm afraid I don't have any profound insight to offer. When it comes to gender issues within the church, I have to acknowledge my own limited background. This just isn't something I've spent a whole lot of time on. What I can say is that while I'm becoming more egalitarian theologically, I'm finding myself more culturally sympathetic to the complementarian crowd. That is, while disagree with Driscoll's underlying theology, but I think he's offering an important cultural critique.

A little background on my perspective:

I'm by no means Thunderlips, the Ultimate Male. The closest I've come to hunting is the Deer Hunter arcade game. Without fail I call men driving big trucks "Bubba Chuck." (I've also developed a theory about these fellas called the "Male Compensation Theory.") My thoughts about NASCAR can pretty well be summed up with this video. I don't have a problem communicating in general or sharing my feelings specifically. I find the vast majority of action movies that are nothing more than an excuse for explosions and CGI to be idiotic. I in no way envy male bodybuilders. (If you ask me, they're just another example of the Male Compensation Theory at work. A theory easily proven, I might add.) I recently thought my car was overheating because it was low on antifreeze. I don't drink beer. (Not because I think it's wrong, but because it tastes like fermented ass.) I'm not an unquestioning supporter of the military. The one thing I still dislike about Dead Poets Society is that they sneak off to a cave to read poetry. And I like cats just about as much as I like dogs.

On the other hand, I'm not a feminine dude, either. My homepage is ESPN.com. It'd be awesome to own, or at least drive, Eleanor. I find guys wearing tight pants to be hideous on all possible levels. My musical interests include rappers like Tupac and bands like Guns N Roses. The only musical I like is Blues Brothers. I'm innately annoyed by the idea of a bunch of men getting together to cry, share their feelings, and hug each other. I've not yet matured beyond my love of bathroom humor. I have ice fished. My duct tape skills are second to none. I love to play video games, even if I'm constantly resisting the urge. And I refuse to wear pink or purple, which, by the way, creates a great quandary for me as a Vikings fan.

It should also be noted that I'm not a Mark Driscoll fan. Click here for proof.

With that background in place, I must voice that something deep within me resonates with Driscoll's comments on this issue. He's absolutely right about the overflowing femininity within our churches. I can't stand it. My purpose here, however, is not to debate his views. All I'll say is that I agree with those who have offered a balanced assessment, suggesting that Driscoll is right in many regards but he also represents the unfortunate blurring of the line between masculinity and misogyny. What I'm really offering here is my own observations and experiences.

A number of years ago I was at a church service and distinctly remember noticing how feminine the whole thing was. The carpet was purple and there were floral arrangements all over the place. Before the service all the dolled up women comparing their outfits and gossiping about various things. When the service started the worship music sounded so much like Shane & Shane that I wondered if any of the male singers had hit puberty yet. The more feminine guys in the congregation were acting just like the women, singing with their arms lifted high and often stopping to cry. Meanwhile almost all the masculine dudes had their arms cross and were clearly suffering. A couple were trying to get into it, but you could tell their irritation was winning the day. After the songs a couple guys came forward to do a "spontaneous" and horribly cheesy skit to plug a couple men's events. Again I looked around and all the masculine guys were annoyed. Apparently nothing kills a guy's enthusiasm for hunting like calling it a "Men's Wilderness Weekend." Then the pastor got up there wearing his mauve dress shirt and started his sermon by cracking jokes that all the women laughed at and the men gave courtesy laughs. The sermon was all about having an "intimate relationship with our Father." At its conclusion was an altar call. I remember thinking, 'Wow. A group of men wearing pastel shirts standing on purple carpeting in front of the floral decorations. They're crying profusely while listening to men with high pitched voices singing songs meant to emotionally manipulate them into having a spiritual experiences. And at the end they'll hug each other and pass around a box of Kleenexs in front of the whole church. Note to self: If I ever become like that, have someone shoot me.' As I was walking out I heard all the crying guys gossiping about the pastor.

Grrrrrr.

What is worse is that this experience isn't uncommon. In most of our churches we've equated spirituality with femininity, and that drives me nuts. Look, both masculinity and femininity have propensities toward certain strengths and weaknesses, so I'm not condemning either sex here. What I am saying is that I've felt very uncomfortable in most of the churches I've ever visited. They felt like Victoria's Secret minus the lingerie. Just an innately feminine atmosphere that makes me uncomfortable. As I was watching that video of Driscoll, I couldn't help but smile. He's absolutely right that the prevailing feminine culture in our churches repels the men. Frankly, that's one of the reasons I absolutely hate going to church.

I'm not out to reinforce gender stereotypes, suppress women, or any of that stuff, and I'd certainly say that Driscoll should speak with more tact and discernment. But overall I have to agree with him. I'm tired of the feminine aura of our church culture in which dudes cannot act like dudes and for a dude to grow in his faith requires that he act like a woman.