Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Thomas Bushnell, BSG's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, July 4th, 2009
10:08 pm	neil diamond first song from Neil Diamond on the broadcast of the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular on TV: "Sweet Caroline". Go Sox! (Comment on this)
9:01 pm	Where am I? So recently, I posted a brief series about the climate at Virginia Theological Seminary. Here is a brief summary of what proceeded after the initial accusation, up to now. No investigation occurred, so far as I can tell. I was submitted to a grueling experience with a "forensic psychiatrist" named David Williamson. I voluntarily agreed to meet with him at the dean's request, without understanding quite what was involved, and didn't know how to call it quits once it became clear. My bishop later described it as an interrogation (and as a former policeman, he should know). Dr. Williamson said at the beginning of this interview that I would be allowed to read his report, though this was one of the many lies he used; when I later asked for a copy, he refused, claiming that only VTS could provide one, and they only provided a summary from a third party, rather than Dr. Williamson's own report. So weeks went by--during which I earned straight As, mind you, and generally excelled in my classes. At one point, I was told in the dean's office, by Timothy Sedgwick, the Associate Dean of Academic Affairs, that the usual faculty evaluation of me would proceed in the usual way, and that the "process" I was in was being carefully kept distinct. This was inaccurate. When the faculty later came to discuss my case, as my own advisor reported to me, the dean called a halt to the discussion, saying that he was doing his own review. (And, in fact, no review ever happened. This is a real violation--a part of academia, a key part, is the right to be graded, and reviewed. While my teachers graded me [with As], the dean also had a canonical, academic, and moral responsibility to have the faculty issue an evaluation, and he blocked this. While it is a minor violation, all considered, it was typical.) Finally, in the last week of the term, the dean called me in and asked me to withdraw. I was, he assured me, no risk to myself nor to anyone else. When I asked why I was being asked to withdraw, he could say nothing, though Marge McNaughton-Ayers said vaguely "there are still safety concerns". Whose they were, nobody was willing to say. Faced with a fait accompli, I negotiated that the day of my withdrawal would be after the formal end of term, and that the dean would pay to ship my belongings back to California. In this way, I would receive proper academic credit (and, I thought, a fair evaluation from the faculty, though as I note, I did not). Only a few fellow students knew, as I left, that I would not be returning. I drove home with a heavy heart, and began CPE as intended. The experience was remarkable, though challenging. 'Nuff said there, for our group had an explicit confidentiality expectation--in which blogs were mentioned!--and I don't intend to violate that now. Upon my return I had spoken to the bishop, and he said that I was "in limbo", and that he would demand from VTS a full copy of my file, and so forth. When CPE was over, I was extremely scared, and in some ways quite at my wits end. I was not sure where my employment would come from; and some teaching opportunities I had scrambled together started falling apart. In what was extremely difficult for me, I "went back" to high tech--though from an objective standpoint, this should not have been so difficult--and I ended up with a splendid job at BorderStylo, a startup in Hollywood, and I'm working with a great group of people on an exciting project, about which I can say essentially nothing at this point. My "in limbo" status remained, however, vis-a-vis the ordination process. I wrote to the bishop asking permission to finish my academic work at Bloy House, which is an Episcopal adjunct school to the Claremont School of Theology. He wrote back saying that I was free to, though I should regard it as part of my academic career and not as part of the ordination process. This was--to say the least--confusing. He had intended it as an indication that I was no longer in the ordination process, but its ambiguity confused me. Eventually--though this took many months--the confusion was cleared up, and he explained that it was his judgment that I no longer remain in the ordination process in the diocese of Los Angeles. In some ways, Bishop Bruno is controversial in Los Angeles for his leadership style, but those controversies generally seem off-the-point to me. He's the bishop, and has no obligation to lead in the style that makes J. Random Cleric feel happiest. In my own case, I know that he seriously went to bat for me, vis-a-vis VTS, but at the same time, for reasons unknown to me, while he acknowledged the injustice of what was done to me, and even took many steps to fight it and prevent its recurrence, he did not see fit to do anything in my case other than permit the injustice to reach its full effect. Sadly, he did not choose to make clear to me, in either of two letters or a face-to-face meeting, just what were his reasons for sending me on my way. So this is where I am, two years after I earned my PhD, full of hope and ready for an exciting cross-county trip and seminary (and clerical) career: I have a nice apartment in Eagle Rock (part of Los Angeles), with my best friend Troy, an excellent programming job with a startup. I teach one course at a time out at Cal Poly Pomona in philosophy: so far, History of Ancient Philosophy, and History of Modern Philosophy; this fall I'm scheduled for Introduction to Philosophy. But while I thought two years ago that I knew where I was, and what I was doing, I no longer know these things. What I have discovered in the last month is that this is, in fact, a blessing. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 1st, 2009
9:12 pm	kindle do i want the kindle dx or the kindle 2? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, May 29th, 2009
9:52 pm	drinking the kool aid ok, whatever. i'm now "reloquus" on twitter. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, May 2nd, 2009
8:21 pm	the two sides of Christian Anarchism I remarked off-hand at work last week that I'm an anarchist, and it seemed that saying so earned me props from my coworker. It was, at least, not what he expected, perhaps. On the one hand, there is the oddity that the traditional watchwords of the anarchist is "No Master, No God"; and how can a Christian anarchist sign on to that? Well, obviously, a Christian anarchist is not going to say "no God", except in the Barthian sense that the world is entraced by a "No-God", a non-God, an Idea-Of-God-Which-Is-Not-God. Of course, the idols are not God. The anarchist is about really taking seriously that last sentence from 1 John: "Little children, keep yourselves from idols." The difference between the Christian anarchist and the secular one is that the ordinary secular anarchist has missed part of the point. The all-exalted "individual", the glorious "humanity" which the anarchist seeks to set free from its many masters is, in the last analysis, all-too-capable of becoming another false god. The anarchist sees a claim to authority as a claim over and against the individual, inherently suppressive of what is truly good. But the Christian anarchist's diagnosis of masters is different, and accordingly, so is the question of God. The Christian anarchist sees that all claims to other masters besides God are attempts to usurp God, while the secular anarchist sees all other masters as usurpations of - well, of what? That's the problem. The secular anarchist is not really committed to the view that individuals are gods, so then what exactly is it that masters do which is wrong? And are not masters also themselves individuals? (Just as the old communists failed to recognize the humanity of the bourgeouisie.) So the Christian anarchist is committed to the view that pretended masters are no-master, but is committed to that view for a reason. While the secular anarchist has no clear reason to offer, the Christian does - because God is God, and let no one usurp God's place. The Christian tradition is replete with the conception of obedience to authority, however. How is this supposed to work? In part, the key is this: Christianity is - or at least, real Christianity always is - a voluntary exercise. It is Jesus Christ's willing submission which is the mark of the passion, which the Gospel of John teaches. Likewise, the individual Christian submits, but only voluntarily, not under force, or under compulsion, and the most a pretended master can do is to set things up so that the Christian submits - but never to the master. The master is to be pitied, not opposed; lamented, not fought. Of course, Christian anarchism is a pacifist exercise, by marked contrast with one wing of secular anarchism. What are the two sides then? On the one hand, a view towards the world: no master here, or at least, no master but that which is voluntarily submitted to, by a free human being. Even the most abject slave - so the stoics realized - cannot be compelled against his will. And the Christian anarchist submits only in the spirit in which Christ did - as a submission to the will of God. And on the other hand, a view towards God, which is a master that all must admit but few do, and which indeed, the Christian anarchist also submits willingly. Indeed, God desires exactly this: that we voluntarily and willingly join his team, sign on to his army, and be part of his parade. A compulsive God is foreign to Christian anarchism. The two sides are thus between human masters and divine; any obedience to either is always voluntary, and the latter is the only which is worth absolute obedience - and even then, it is always and only voluntary, and it is that divine acceptance of only voluntary obedience which makes the divine worthy of obedience, and worship. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, March 16th, 2009
6:45 pm	Shame One of the undercurrents of the "process" I was subjected to at VTS was the way it intersected with shame. I am not good at dealing with shame--perhaps few are. And when I was informed that serious charges were made against me, shame wa the immediate emotion I felt. I wanted to hide. First and key for me was the immediate and desperate impluse to make sure that visiblity and publicity that I had been accused should be prevented. I spent energy trying to figure out whether this would be reported to my bishop, and I did everything I could not to share it with friends. This was in fact a great tactical mistake, because I would greatly have benefited from the support and advice which they could give me. I shared what was happening with my brothers, my family, and two friends. As the term went on, I finally realized that I should speak more plainly, and I began to say to a few trusted friends that the Seminary was deciding whether to kick me out, and that Julia had made a serious accusation against me. Still, shame was the overpowering character of my own experience, even as I found it liberating to speak more or less plainly with a few. One of the reasons I can post about this now, and could not then, is that I have dealt with the shame. I have considered whether I have done anything to be ashamed of. I believe rather firmly in the superiority of light to darkness, of visibility to hiddenness, and while the results may at times be painful, I believe they are good. The fictive sense of community I wrote about in my last post is connected to shame, as a commenter helpfully pointed out. This sort of pseudo-community often depends on shame for its maintenance. Much pretending goes on, and amidst that pretending, is a sense of shame for those who do not measure up to what they pretend. This is exactly the dynamic of the closet, and in that respect I know it well. It is a dynamic which depends on people being willing to pronounce a party line, about their own sexuality, their theological positions, their prayer life, or whatever else it might be. The "community", such as it is, depends massively upon a shared commitment to make things appear good. And that appearance entirely trumps the reality. It is not important, so the thinking goes, for the community to be healthy. It must be seen to be healthy. Now this dynamic is true everywhere; the desire to appear good rather than to be good is deep and endemic to human society, as the Crito makes abundantly clear. What is distinct is that VTS is intensely focused on being a good community. Then, when "appearing good" is substituted for "being good", the potential form harm magnifies. People at VTS are generally punished not for doing harm, but for disturbing the peace, for actions which agitate or raise anxiety. The most serious crime that can be committed is to disturb the community, and the mere fact of disturbance is sufficient evidence in itself. When this is internalized, as I had begun to internalize it myself, one becomes deeply ashamed of being involved in disturbance. And so, any discussion of my situation was horrific to me, in part because if it were publicly discussed, disturbance would result, and the first rule of such an environment is Thou shalt not cause disturbance. When it became known last summer among many of my former classmates that VTS had forced me to withdraw, they organized an effort to write a letter as a group to the dean expressing their dismay. Such actions are just what the seminary abhors, just what I wanted to avoid while I was there, and exactly what is harmful to the pseudo-community enforced by secrecy and shame. And, simultaneous with my beginning this series of posts, I sent an email to some former classmates informing them of the blog posts coming and the substance of the first of them. Predictably, the dean called a meeting with my former class to discuss the matter. I am confident that the most important consideration was not the truth of any allegations against me, or the truth of my complaintc of injustice and scapegoating, but rather, I am confident that the most important consideration was to reinforce Thou shalt not cause disturbance and to get the mechanisms of shame rolling. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, March 15th, 2009
12:32 pm	Community and VTS One of the interested facets that underlay my time at VTS was its peculiar notions of community. At VTS, "community" has something of the status of an idol. I say only something of that status, because, when push comes to shove, the seminar is orthodox and does not really worship community. But it does, at times, get awfully close. This was particularly interesting to me, because I came to VTS both with a much greater experience than the other students, both of Christian community and of academic community. And, since in the minds of many, the job of clergy centrally concerns such things as "making community" or "building community" or "fostering community" or "leading community", the notion of what community is being taught at VTS is of prime importance. Key to the maintenance of the VTS image of community while I was there was the role of Marge McNaughton-Ayers. Marge was the keeping of community, the Associate Dean of Community Life, the one centrally charged with making community happen. A telling joke about this occurred in one of the skits at the spring comedy night. Members of the junior class acted out their goal to go into Washington to have a night at a club. Along the way they met with various demons: the demon of insufficient funds, the demon of transportation, and so forth. One of the demons was the "demon of total inclusion", personified by someing playing the role of Marge, who complained that they had not done enough to include off-campus students in their quest for a night out. Often this is what it feels like: our honesty, or a simple night out, must be squelched, managed, controlled, and limited, in order to produce the officially-approved notion of what the community is. A current student expressed some concern that my newfound willingness to speak plainly about my understanding of what happened in my case, arguing that my willingness to speak plainly would be disruptive, encouraging people in the community to take sides, and so forth. It is interesting in this regard that Jesus himself was not much on the view that disruption is intrinsically harmful. But what the student expressed was truthful to the notions of community I saw being taught at VTS. We have community when everyone is uniformly pleasant, when everyone feels good, when everyone is surrounded by a warm-fuzzy of warm-fuzziness. This form of community ultimately triumphs over justice, because when a claim of justice arises within such a community, it cannot be handled. An example of this occurred last year as well. Some students arranged a series of forums on gay and lesbian concerns, with the purpose of providing a space where people in general could hear the stories of gay people and parents of gay people. Someone on campus took issue with the explanation that this was not a forum for debate, and posted anonymously a rather unpleasant accusation on the Stand Firm blog (a fairly conservative-leaning place) that VTS was engaging in censorship. A ruckus ensued. I believe it extremely likely that the VTS administration discovered who the anonymous critic was, but the campus as a whole was never told. Indeed, plain speech about the event did not occur. Much effort was spent trying to set up structures so that such things would not recur. But note that the student who posted the anonymous attack did not believe that he could get a fair hearing if he spoke plainly on campus about his concerns. Even though I am firmly convinced that his concerns were wrong-headed, I am entirely convinced that the campus was much weakened by the sense that he must not speak them. Both his own retreat to anonymity, and the campus's refusal to be plain about what had happened, were harmful. The forces that prevented both his own plain speech, and prevented a discussion of the details of what had happened, were forces that sought to preserve a powerful homeostasis of non-controversy. I would joke with some other juniors now and then about "drinking the kool-aid" of community-speak. I was captivated by the notion that one is being asked to "buy in" to a powerful, even seductive, image of community, and that one does so only at the risk of a loss of integrity and self. True community is wildly different. True community is not harmed by an open and frank admission of its own shortcomings, by controversy and disagreement. Community depends on a willingness to work together and be bound together even when we have radical and even sharp disagreement. When truths must not be spoken for fear they will rock the boat so much that the community will founder, the community has in fact already disappeared. If we believe that disruption, in itself, is harmful to community, we are dealing with a false notion of community. At root here is a pastoral disaster. It is the notion that community is something we can control, manage, and shape. Community is a gift of God, and a gift which God can grant and withhold, for God's own purposes. It is not something we can make, and our efforts to make it ourselves are likely only to end in disaster. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, March 14th, 2009
1:18 am	Where has Thomas been? Over the past year or so, I've been not-so-present on my blog. The reasons are complex. In one sense, there is no clear and immediate reason--I blog when I feel the urge, when I have something to say, either about current events or something else. But I have been mostly silent, certainly by comparison with my previous prolixity. Yet, in another sense, this is because I have been unable to blog clearly and honestly about what has been of the greatest importance in my life over the past twelve months, and as a consequence, the well was dry. Circumstances have changed, and it's time to begin telling the story. It's not a pretty story--it's a story full of deceit, betrayal, shame, and abuse. Yet, it's time to tell it. Back on last Good Friday, you'll see that I posted this, in which I said that I couldn't go into details, but I would appreciate prayers. Here is why I needed prayers on that day. Last Maundy Thursday, just as the VTS community was entering spring break, and as most students had left on whatever travel excursions they had planned, I was called by Marge McNaughton-Ayers, the VTS Associate Dean of Community Life. She informed me that two students had made serious complaints against me, and I needed to meet with her that afternoon. I was invited to bring someone along with me, and I did ask a good friend to come with me. At her office, I was informed in only the vaguest terms of the complaints. One of them I recognized, though it had clearly been quite substantially misrepresented; the other was of an event that did not happen at all. It is awfully hard to say, when one is not permitted to read the charges. I was invited to respond, and I did so. To the first, I gave an accurate description of the event concerned, and to the second, I explained that I recalled nothing of the kind ever happening. This was, I thought, the gentlest and most careful way of saying that no event matching the description I was given had ever occurred. I was not told the names of those who had made the complaints, but I was ordered not to speak to either of them. The first complaint was made by then-senior Matt Tucker, who is now a priest in the Diocese of New Jersey. This was immediately apparent, because I knew what event was being (mis-) described. I was entirely in the dark about the maker of the second complaint, but it shortly became clear that it was made by Julia Messer, then-fellow-junior at VTS. Matt and I had an uneasy, but cordial, relationship. By contrast, I had regarded Julia as one of my closer friends, someone I had an instant liking for when we first met, and someone for whom my regard only increased as time went by. That I was betrayed by her in such a fashion was extraordinarily surprising to me. Needless to say, this utterly took the wind out of my sails. I went off to Maundy Thursday liturgy that evening in a fog, and entered into Holy Week as never before. I understood the dynamics of shame in a powerful way--the manner in which shame can swirl around one even without guilt attached. I understood why people can feel shame for things which are not their control. My sense of shame was to play an important role in what followed in the story, but I mustn't get ahead of myself. And so, on Good Friday, I said on my blog that it was a difficult time, and that prayers were appreciated. Future posts will continue to explain various parts of the story. Not chronologically, but thematically, as I seek to express my understanding of surface-level events and underlying dynamics. Shortly before I left VTS I wrote a parable about what had happened. Now I can write the direct version. The parable must remain, however, as a faithful record of my understanding of the inner-reality of what occurred, though as I begin to describe it directly, I will also be able to augment that understanding with further depth and clarity. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 29th, 2009
10:23 pm	supporting the bishop From time to time one hears conversations among clergy in which the bishop comes up for comment. And oh, people like to criticize. Whether it's a particular decision, or leadership style, or communications style, or whatever it is, they do like to criticize. No bishop is exempt; from best to worst, people have a stake, and when they have a stake, they like to criticize. It's an American thing, really, though it's surely not confined to us. We assume that our leaders are there to serve us, that they must be responsive to our needs, and--most importantly--that they make us feel good. And if they fail, well, so much the worse! This style has gotten to the point where it paralyzes our secular politics. We now have a party that thinks that no matter what the economic climate, no matter what the tax rate, no matter what else is going on, it is always good policy to cut taxes. And they say this because it polls well. It is no principled stand. The other major party seems to think that all social problems can be solved by sufficient governmental investment, and regards the idea that such investment might be a bad idea in some case as tantamount to not caring about the problem. And both parties have come to this point because their views poll well--because they make people feel good. "We must raise taxes" feels bad; "we must cut this popular program" feels bad; so nobody will do it,and if they do, they certainly will not do it clearly or honestly. In California, where a 2/3 majority is necessary to govern, the result has been disastrously paralyzing, and has gotten to the point where we are in real danger as a state. This should give church leaders pause, but more to the point, it should give church followers pause. If we expect our leaders to bend to our desires as we have successfully done to political leaders, we will ruin ourselves. Our leaders were not chosen as surrogates for ourselves, but as responsible people--who indeed should be held responsible--who are called to lead. And a leader cannot lead without a follower; cannot lead without people willing to go along. Now of course, a good leader has the skills to encourage people to go along, to coax, encourage, and to sell ideas so that people want to follow. That's a good leader. But, to judge by those groups of clergy and their complaining, there are no good leaders around. (The reader will notice that I am inclined to think that those groups are perhaps incorrect.) The problem here is that most of the people doing the complaining, are, vis-a-vis the bishop, not the leader. And it is very easy to pronounce about how someone else ought to do their job. (I note that, in my experience, even the most gracious clergy are extraordinarily prickly about anyone offering suggestions about how they ought to do their job.) I would like to see followers--and, vis-a-vis the bishop, that's what I am--think about what a good follower looks like. And I would note that clergy in particularly have sworn an oath, pledging themselves to be good followers. So, how about this. Every time that little nattering conversation kicks in about how the bishop should do that and why doesn't the bishop react this way and the bishop should this and that and the other, how about every such time, the clergy and the others there should spend at least as much time, or well, golly, more, or--hope against hope--all the time, thinking about their job, and not someone else's job, and focus on how to be a good follower. Some attributes. A good follower tries to figure out how to help the leader accomplish the group's goals. A good follower recognizes that different leaders lead in different ways, and that it is, at root, the follower's responsibility to adapt to the leader's style, and not the other way round. (And isn't this obvious when you think about it, since after all, the one leader has a jillion followers, and how could he possibly adapt to them all?) A good follower recognizes the harm caused by nattering, murmuring, complaining habits, and does not participate in them--knowing that even if they are justified, they still cause considerable harm.A good follower attempts to understand the stresses and difficulties incumbent upon the leader. The basic rule is this: no matter how badly someone else is doing their job, you still don't get to do yours badly in return. And each of us is well served to work on ourselves and our own job and responsibilities, which are generally quite hard enough without taking on lots of extra ones too. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 27th, 2009
2:28 pm	scheme implementation wanted I want to find a scheme implementation that: * Has an interface to BDB (the Berkeley DB, as now distributed by Oracle) * Has something like eventmanagaer for single-threaded select-based programming * Has a compiser (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, January 25th, 2009
6:12 pm	southern california insanity From the Pasadena Weekly, the following letter. Senseless trauma I write to urge all cat owners to keep their pets inside. This week I witnessed a horrifying event. I was at my computer at home and heard a loud cry from my front lawn. I rushed out and saw a large silver tabby cat killing a young squirrel. Another young squirrel was nearby running around as if to distract the cat. The cat took off when I went out, but the squirrel was already dead. Later I went out again and saw that the dead squirrel was now beheaded. Apparently the cat came back and ate the head of the squirrel. I then spotted the other squirrel just sitting in one place, as if in shock, even though I approached. I called the Pasadena Humane Society, and they came and rescued the second squirrel with the hope of keeping it alive. I called today and found out the squirrel they had picked up died. Two young squirrels died because a cat was allowed to roam freely outside. Cats are domestic animals and are not indigenous. We don’t allow dogs to roam freely. We shouldn’t allow cats to either. ~GERALD ORCHOLSKI, PASADENA (19 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 21st, 2009
3:30 pm	moving the customers along So McDonald's is famous for having chairs that seem ok to sit in, but which are carefully designed to make you uncomfortable and want to leave after ten minutes. Yesterday I discovered that Amoeba Records has the same trick. I was in the classical section yesterday, browsing around. When I came in, I heard this interested intense, repetetive choral music, which did interesting stereo things, and had a nice rhythm to it. And I'm shopping, and it's contining, and I'm shopping. And as I'm shopping and browsing and going about, it gets more and more annoying. It's not that it's changed, just that it's moved from interesting to pestering to very annoying. And as I decide, "I must leave now or my head will explode", I glance over at the "now playing" display and see a Philip Glass CD case. So there you have it. Philip Glass is like a McDonald's chair: popular in its way, nice for five minutes, and painful after ten. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 19th, 2009
11:31 am	counting blessings and curses 1. I have a good job, with friendly and pleasant co-workers, doing interesting work. 2. I have a pleasant apartment, which I share with my best friend. 3. I have enough to eat every day. 4. My family loves me, my friends love me, and they are there to support me when I stumble. 1. Those who respect me, and those who have power over me, are mostly entirely separate and disjoint groups of people. 2. My most earnest desires for my life seem fated to be unfulfilled. 3. I have been the victim of a serious slander, which people in power accept as the most important word about me. At least 4 > 3. (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 17th, 2009
11:46 am	Isaiah I'm reading the excellent commentary by Alec Motyer on Isaiah right now, following it as the lectionary moves us through the book. Motyer stresses repeatedly the distinction between primary cause and secondary cause. He sees God acting as primary cause of events, using secondary causes as instrumental means. But people do well, he says, not to focus on secondary causes but on the one primary cause--God himself. Commenting on 42:23-24d, Motyer says: "That the Lord is the agent behind events is the rigour of the Bible's view of history and personal experience. It is not a denial or ignorance of 'second causes' but an understanding of the 'first cause': a realization that the Lord does not abdicate sovereign, executive direction when he achieves his purposes through others and an insistence that it is even with him (and not with secondary agencies) that we must deal all through life. Hence moral factors...are the hinge on which life turns, not cleverness in manipulating situations and 'pulling strings.'" It confronts me that my own difficulties often connect just here. I am so often sure that by pulling the right strings, arranging things the right way, I can manage a difficult situation and get it come round right. I cannot imagine that God would simultaneously pull me in two directions, and so I imagine that one string is God and the other is not-God. But the no-god of Isaiah is the idol, the false god, which cannot pull at all. All is God, each string, each difficulty, each triumph, all is God. What is hard is to trust in the promises, the best wishes, the effective power of God to bring all round right. In the midst of events, the question is harder: since I must act, in the existential awareness that nonaction is itself a species of action, which actions should I choose? Not the ones which rely on cleverness and pulling strings, but then what? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, December 26th, 2008
10:38 pm	Merry Christmas It has been an extremely tough year for me, in many ways. "Annis horribilis" comes to mind. But oddly, this is a merry christmas, and in the words of my dad, who is extremely ill at the moment, the best one yet. Last Sunday, on Advent IV, I was in transit from Los Angeles to Albuquerque, and caught the 8:00 am service at the nearby Episcopal Church in the town we stopped in Saturday night. I won't say where or what church. The preacher began with a bright and cheery, "Merry Christmas!" and I rolled my eyes. 'Twas not the best of homilies. It gave all the appearance of the homily of a member of the staff of this large church who was not scheduled for any of the Christmas day services, and dadgummit, she was gonna preach a Christmas homily. The text was, of course, the annunciation to Mary, but her sermon was as much about the Joseph story from Matthew. I dislike preachers who stray so far from the text they preach about some other gospel than the one assigned. Maybe this was recycled from Advent IV last year (where it was the annunciation to Joseph), but I rather doubt it. She spent a lot of time rehearsing the plot of some movie from years ago which I dimly remembered, and we were supposed to get the Christmas Message in part from that. If it's bad enough to preach from Matthew when the text was Luke, imagine my dismay when the text was also this movie almost nobody in the room (or the movie-going public, for that matter) had seen. As I left, I shook hands with the presider of the liturgy, and the homilist, who insisted on a cheery "Merry Christmas!" to everyone, despite it still being December 21, and not yet Christmas at all. Advent is, as I insist, a penitential season. This does not make it like Lent. It is, perhaps, the extroverted version of Lent, the season when we are told to get out, to do, to stop being complacent, to change society, to herald a new future, to refuse compromise with unjust and exploitative systems. I think one of the reasons Americans have such trouble with Advent is not only the cultural Christmas-starts-in-November habit, but also the deep antipathy to the messages of prophets such as Amos or Micah. They do not sit well with us, no, not at all. But now, it is Christmas. The point of Advent is to herald, to announce, to get ready, to look for the coming of Christ, and Christmas is about the presence, the existince, the now-ness of Christ. We turn from a future orientation to a present orientation, and I rejoice for the presence of Jesus Christ in my life and those I love. It is the small graces which matter so much, especially in an extremely tough year. I learned over Advent the need I have to forgive some folks for the wrongs they have done me. I do not yet know how to do that task--it will be very hard, given the depth of the pain inflicted upon me (and I lament that, at this point, I cannot be more clear in a public blog). But it is, indeed, the task I must undertake. I cannot do it, however, without the graces I have received, and the Christ I know, and I am so very grateful that the Immanuel is with me in this work. And, to all of you, a very Merry Christmas, where by "merry" I mean not a superficial happiness, or a cheery good feeling--the one that preacher was trying to anticipate--but rather the deep spiritual joy that arises from the indwelling Spirit of God. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, December 11th, 2008
11:08 pm	A Boring approach to canonicity In his 2006 commentary on the Gospel according to Mark, Eugene Boring, like most commentators, argues that Mark 16:9-20 is not original to the text. So far so good. But he draws a curious conclusion from that. He says, "...both internal and external evidence make it virtually certain that Mark ended at 16:8, and none of the additional endings can be considered 'canonical.'" Scare quotes in original.He contrasts this in a footnote with a famously different judgment: "Vs. the decision of Trent that16:9-20is 'the' canonical ending." The scare quotes are weird. Take the first. Putting scare quotes around "canonical" suggests that Boring thinks that being canonical is some kind of pseudo-question--in which case, however, why would he argue that "none of the additional endings can be considered 'canonical'"? Likewise, the scare quotes around "the" in the footnote suggest that Trent made two errors: first, it thought that 16:9-20 was the canonical ending, and second, it thought that it made sense to speak of a single canonical ending. Yet Boring's own opinion is perfectly clear: it does make sense to speak of "the canonical ending", and 16:8 is it. But he is nervous. He recognizes, I suppose, that he is on extremely shaky ground here. Most New Testament commentators just skip over the question entirely. (Moloney, in his Sacra Pagina volume on John,does comment on 7:53-8:11, even though he [like most commentators] thinks it is not original to the text. Why? Because SP committed to commenting on the canonical text of the New Testament, and as a Roman Catholic series, that means the Tridentine notion of canon. So Moloney says that 7:53-8:11 is not original, explains why, and then proceeds to comment upon it. Kudos to him for this correct approach.) Boring, however, ain't so bound. So he says that it isn't canonical, in an embarassed way, as if he is a bit disturbed that he should be asked to make such a judgment (not that anyone did ask him to). What is odd is the disconnect between his treatment of this passage and Mark 4:13-20. The latter, unquestionably part of Mark, is according to Boring, not really original to the parable being recorded. So Boring gives us two interpretations of Mark 4; one as if 4:13-20 were not there, and one as it is. One could imagine him doing that with Mark 16, but, no. It is more important to express his disdain for the addition by refusing to comment upon it at all, and instead commenting on the question of genuineness. He even then makes the excellent point that 16:9-20 could be thought of as an early Christian commentary upon Mark--as Luke and Matthew. But hey--Luke and Matthew are canonical, why not Mark 16:9-20? Take now Earl J Richard's commentary on 1 & 2 Thessalonians, in Sacra Pagina. Richard is an adherent, apparently, of the Boring school of canonicity, though because it's SP, he can't just skip the texts he doesn't like. In his case, he doesn't like 1 Thess. 2:14-16, which is an "interpolation" he says, and "post-Pauline". In the section "An interpolator's perspective" we might think he would comment on the text, rather than just authorship, but no, he looks at the text in that section again only to underscore it is "post-Pauline." But when he gets to 2 Thess, also post-Pauline in his view, it is never called such, but instead, the author is a "Paulinist". The difference, apparently, is that a "post-Pauline" is bad, and, Boring would say, not "canonical", while a Paulinist is a forger who is canonical. See, while Richard insists that we must read 2 Thess as a document produced by a "Paulinist" deliberately to fool his audience ("The author chooses close imitation of a well-known Pauline letter as strategy to counter the charismatic and epistolary claims of apocalyptic preachers.") but this dishonesty is ok, while that one (1 Thess. 2:14-16) is bad. Boring thinks that Mark 16:9-20 is bad, or not canonical, erp, "canonical", but Mark 4:13-20 is good, even though equally words-into-someone's-mouth. What Boring doesn't understand, and Richard maybe does or does not, and Moloney sure does, is that "canonical" is an ecclesiastical judgment, not a scholarly one. Mark 16:9-20 is canonical in the Roman Catholic Church, and John 7:53-8:11, because Trent established it so. And, as for the Episcopal Church, equally so are these texts received as canonical, as declared in Article VI, the Authorized Version, and the lectionaries. Nothing Boring can say or do changes that. Most Protestant churches are rather more loosey goosey about such awkward questions, assuming that "the Bible" is a fairly clearly delineated document, and simply skipping blithely past the hard questions about canonicity. This seems to be Boring's approach. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, November 6th, 2008
12:28 pm	How the voters killed marriage in California There are two ways that voters killed marriage in California. The first, by legal ineptitude. The California Constitution, pre-prop-8, says that equal protection requires that marriage laws be non-discriminatory. None of the provisions upon which that decision were based had their language changed by prop 8. What does that mean? We have a case where a number of sentences, call the set of them S, imply the proposition, "Marriage discrimination is prohibited in California." Adding other sentences to the constitution does not change what S implies: S still implies the same thing it did a month ago: "Marriage discrimination is prohibited in California." What does prop 8 say? It says "Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California." Now that's an interesting sentence. Note that it does not say anything about equal protection. It does not say that heterosexual marriages are valid or recognized. What it says is logically equilavent to "If a marriage is not between a man and a woman, then it is not valid or recognized in California." So the question is, can set S and prop 8 be reconciled? Is there a way to adhere to what S says, "Marriage discrimination is prohibited in California", and what prop 8 says, "same-sex marriage is not permitted in California"? Of course there is. What proposition 8 did was effect a ban on all marriages in California. Ok, now what is the second way that prop 8 kills marriage? It sends the message that marriage is not important or necessary. Note that the supporters say that they are not against gay couples at all. (Of course, we know they're being dishonest, but let's pretend they were truthful on this one.) What prop 8 stands for is then the principle that marriage is an optional extra, a thing couples could participate in or not, with no particular social standing or importance. This is already happening--the backers of prop 8 are correct in their assessment that "marriage is under threat" in America. What they have missed--monumentally--is that it is under threat from any force that would make it unimportant, optional, or unnecessary. (Note that I am not here expressing any view about whether it is good or bad that proposition 8 kills marriage, just explaining that it does so.) If the backers of prop 8 are being honest, and again, let's pretend they are--for even if we recognize their dishonesty, we cannot attribute such dishonest to the voters--then they believe the following two propositions: 1) Gay couples are ok, and deserving of civil protections, and 2) Gay couples should not be allowed to marry. And the only way that can be true is if the following is true: "Marriage is not important in deciding which couples are ok and deserving of civil protections." And nothing is a bigger nail in the coffin of marriage than widespead acceptance of that proposition. (8 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 5th, 2008
7:15 pm	the next steps of course one next step is to begin the fight against Prop 8 in the courts. the ACLU et. al. were, of course, ready at the gate and filed a petition with the California Supreme Court today. i'm sure we will hear in the weeks to come what we can do to help that. but there are some things right now that we can do. here's my list: * make sure our friends know that we will not tolerate discrimination and prejudice * tell our elected representatives that we expect them to stand up for our rights * express our appreciation directly to those who have stood up for us (and Dianne Feinstein should get praise here) * refuse to accept any longer the compromise of tolerating national candidates who mouth against gay marriage [1] * talk about it with our friends and family [2] [1]: Barack Obama expressed in a lukewarm way his opposition to Proposition 8, but also said flat out that he was against gay marriage. This latter statement was then used in a robocall across California, suggesting that he was in favor of Proposition 8. In a tremendously dishonest campaign, this was hardly the vilest tactic they used. But Obama is responsible for it. It was entirely predictable. He had a responsibility to stand up and say, clearly and forcefully, on a national stage, that he was against Proposition 8 in California. His failure to do so is his first sell-out of his gay and lesbian supporters. I dearly hope that he does not follow in Bill Clinton's footsteps and continue to sell us out further. [2]: I am convinced that one reason for the sharp age disparity about Proposition 8 is not just that younger people have newer ideas. It's also that younger people are not embarassed to use the word "gay" and freely talk about the issue with each other. By contrast, older pro-gay supporters are often circumspect or coded in their language. It's time to start talking about it, and that applies *especially* to people over forty. And that leads to my final thing we can all do: * stop using the word "partner" or other weasels and euphemisms. it is love that makes a marriage, and it's time to say "husband" or "wife" or "spouse" or some unequivocal word--and that is true completely independent of whether the state has chosen to recognize the particular marriage or not. and this is something we can *all* do. so if you catch me saying "partner" (a word i once loved!), call me out on it. the word is "husband" or "wife". we must make clear that the vote in California was a vote to stop recognition of certain marriages, but nothing about it can prevent the marriage itself. marriage, a fundamental human right, is not up to the state, and the marriage exists whether the state chooses to recognize it or not--and we should speak accordingly. (13 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, November 3rd, 2008
10:05 am	liturgy collapse Sunday I visited a parish I have not been to before. Well, actually I had been to the physical site before for a diocesan meeting, and found the church quite delightful in its architecture and siting. So, on my tour of parishes near my new digs, I thought I would go. Well, it being All Saints' Sunday, the rector apparently had the idea of having "stories of the saints" instead of a sermon. My first reaction was, "I bet I will come out wishing I heard a homily instead." The three (sic) saints selected were Oscar Romero, Michelangelo (!), and John & Charles Wesley. Each came between the second lesson and the gospel, so the liturgy started normally and then after the second lesson came story, hymn, story, hymn, story, hymn, gospel, creed. The stories were not prepared texts, but were given rather free form by three lay members of the congregation. The first, on Romero, was moving, and reasonably brief...but at about ten minutes, it did not bode well. The other two stories were rambling, and filled with much stuff that didn't really relate (the Wesleys piece, for example, contained a substantial introduction detailing the history of the English Reformation from the 1540s to the 1750s). The one on Michelangelo went particularly long and rambly, with next to nothing about the person and almost nothing about the art if you did not already have the images in your mind. That meant that the substitute for the sermon lasted about an hour and fifteen minutes. And, to maximize the abusive character of what went on, after the second story-teller sat down (the Michelangelo one), partway through the hymn which followed his piece, he got up and left, and did not return. It was a singular event--and much of the liturgy was gorgeous, including the very talented choir (especially talented for its small size and the small size of the building); the celebrant sang the Mozarabic preface to Eucharistic Prayer D and did it very well, and so forth. So perhaps such a singular train-wreck won't keep me away in the future. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, October 30th, 2008
8:38 pm	An open letter to my friends in California I write because Proposition 8, on the ballot in California, is one of the most important struggles of our lives. It is the defining civil rights issue of our day, a basic question of whether we recognize the equal dignity of all people before the law. The race is exceedingly tight. This in itself is already distressing--that we should be putting the most basic civil rights of citizens to a vote. Our rights, our simple digity as human beings, are not things which should be subject to such a process. But such it is. And this one is down to the wire. Much misinformation has been spread by those who are so offended at the mere existence of gay people that they would willingly see gay people eliminated entirely from society. One advertisement claims that same-sex civil unions already provide the same benefits as marriage. Contrary to this claim, the Attorney General of California has identified a substantial number of legal rights possessed by married couples which are denied to participants in civil unions. Another claim is that children would be educated about marriage against the will of their parents. California law already prohibits teaching chlidren about family or health issues against the will of their parents; a case in Massachusetts has nothing to do with the matter. California parents have an *absolute right* to object to any such teaching. Another claim is that churches would be forced to perform same-sex marriages. But *no* church is *ever* required to solemnize a marriage; this would be a gross violation of church and state, and the state has never required any church to solemnize *any* marriage. Proposition 8 has nothing to do with schools, nothing to do with churches. What does it mean that such deceptive strategies are used in every advertisement? What arguments are left, after we remove the dishonest and manipulative ones? There are none. We are left with the view that, in the final analysis, some people believe it is very important for the state to discriminate against me, and they are willing to spend a billion dollars to make it happen--and tell outrageous lies in their attempt. And the fundamental issue, as always, is about people. I delighted at the wedding of my friends Rob and Doug, of Karekin and Anthony, of Francis and Mark. These include couples with children, and a record of stability that rivals any marriage--in one case, thirty years. The question is whether these people are equal to the rest of the state. The question, finally, my friends, is personal. Do you regard *me* as equal? Are my rights important? Do I possess the same fundamental human dignity as you? Some people believe yes, and some people believe no. I ask you to vote on November 4 against Proposition 8; I ask you with all my heart, everything I am at stake, that this is a vote which defines your attitude not just toward an abstract issue, not just toward Rob, Doug, Karekin, Francis, and Mark, but your attitude toward me personally. If you are not convinced, I hope you'll email me so we can talk about this. It is perhaps one of the most important votes you could ever cast. I urge you to bring it up with your friends and your family, and to join me in making a contribution at https://secure.ga4.org/01/equalityforall. Thomas (4 Comments |Comment on this)