Sunday, September 28, 2008

structure & regulation

This week I am thinking about the economic meltdown, my work in the accreditation office, and urban planning. The thing that ties all of this together is the importance of a careful framework of structure and regulation. As I read the requirements written by the accrediting bodies--which encompass everything from teaching philosophy, employment policy, campus environment, and budget, endowment, and physical resources--I realize the importance of regulation and review. When I read about the mortgage meltdown and the failure of banks, I remember the importance of regulation and oversight. When I do my work with Care Through Touch, when I see the tourists and shoppers get on and off at Powell street, one Bart stop away from Civic Center and the Tenderloin, I think about about the role of urban planning, public transportation, and the link between tourist and business hotels just a few blocks from strip clubs and open drug deals. I think about the implicit structures that regulate this business, and the role of economic regulation in judging who is in dire need for help and who is allowed to drop out of the bottom of the economic system.
We cannot rely on the good nature of people to act responsibly. We cannot allow the free market to just work itself out humanely. We cannot rely on the profit motive to create sound economic policy. We cannot rely on the good intentions of my school's board and administration. We cannot rely on our elected officials to be responsible without our monitoring. This is not to say that individuals (and the board and administration or Congressional representatives) are bad people. In fact, the accreditation report is basically a report on how the school is monitoring itself and trying to improve areas of deficit and difficulty. But it's important to have the regulatory/accreditation structure in place--just in case someone decides to act a little crazy. It's just that power is funny, greed-profit is funny. It messes with people.
That's why it's important to have laws and regulation, to set humane policies in place, and to monitor our government. It's just a little extra insurance.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Hell & punishment

Last week in my "Hell" class, the professor, Holger Zellentin from the Center for Jewish Studies, raised an important point: the reliance of imperialism on dual punishments: in this life and in hell. We weren't able to fully discuss it, but it got me thinking. We have read Egyptian accounts of the underworld, including punishments, and Zoroastrian/ancient Persian accounts of the afterlife, including a rather astounding and exhausting lists of diabolical tortures for various "sins." Prof. Zellentin raised the question about ethical systems that are communicated through fantasies of violence and the interconnected nature of pious purity and really crazy forms of physical torture and degradation. Reading the descriptions of hell in the Arda Viraf, I realized that I have a profound lack of imagination for inflicting pain.
I don't know. My thoughts aren't very well-formed yet, but this idea of imperialism and torture are interesting.
In that framework, it's easier to see how pious conservative Christianity becomes obsessed with the punishments of hell and the torture of Jesus in the cross. It's another creation of dichotomy, in which the "good" relies on the "bad' to define itself. A desire to change that belief system brings with it a shift in self-understanding.

Friday, September 19, 2008

ridiculous hopefulness

Today I was struck with a fit of outlandish hopefulness. I spent my morning indexing an accreditation report for my school (a job I have, helping prepare for an upcoming accreditation review by the Western Association of Schools & Colleges and by the Association of Theological Schools). The report is quite honest about flaws in curriculum and administration, but the vision of the school and the curriculum is inspiring. It will take time to get where it wants to be, but it's the sort of institution I want to be a part of (despite my struggles and my criticisms of the place). It takes religion and spirituality very seriously but also situates it within the larger context of waning religious involvement in the US and waning theological education for many of those in evangelical Christian ministry (one of growing parts of religion in the US and world).

Then, I happened to be listening to music with the newest version of iTunes, which contains a simultaneously great and annoying little widget called Genius, which suggests songs and playlists similar to whatever song I might be listening to. Out of idle curiosity, I checked out the "countdown" to John Legend's next album, Evolver. I listened to "If You're Out There," and I almost started crying. It's a call to...something, to leadership, to peace, to change. I would call it a minor religious experience, because it got me in touch with a profound, unfounded hopefulness that I've been feeling lately, with Prop 8, with the election, with the life I am building with my partner. It reminds me of what I can do, even if it's minor, to change my world. Yes, there's echoes of Obamamania in the song, and yes I am jaded/cautious to put hope in what a mainstream Democratic candidate can actually accomplish. But I am also joyously hopeful about the opportunity to see someone different in the white house -- someone who is fundamentally different from what came before (despite the fact that he's a mainstream main-party candidate) by his visible existence. I hope "If You're Out There" is a soundtrack anthem for the next decade or so. And "Greenlight (Afroganic Mix) is also a great song off the upcoming album.

shame

I started reading "Beyond Shame: Reclaiming the Abandoned History of Radical Gay Sexuality" by Patrick Moore. He apparently asserts that a culture of sexual exploration/creativity is linked to a larger sense of creativity (in the artistic, cultural, intellectual, political, etc senses) by analyzing gay men's culture in the 1970s ant 80s. He seems to be claiming that AIDS created an individual and cultural sense of shame that dampened creativity and continues to haunt lgbt/queer culture and HIV education. The author makes the assertion that HIV prevention needs more sex, not less sex - because it's connected to joy and reclamation of sexuality. He is not calling for a return to mindless sexual hedonism, but pointing out what died with the legions of people who died from AIDS in this time period. He suggests that we honor their memory without binding ourselves in a straitjacket (chastity belt?) of shame. He also seems to be suggesting that race was more integrated into sexuality during this time and that the resulting shame affects young men of color most of all because it seems to imply that gay sexuality is something to be hidden, or at least quiet, about -- while young gay men of color have the highest rate of contracting HIV in the US.
Clearly, I haven't read the book yet, so I'm reserving judgment. Moore addresses some of the gender imbalances of his book -- for example, he mentions the gender split between gay men and gay women at the time, healed largely by lesbian, bi, and straight women who provided caretaking and activism during the crisis of AIDS. It provokes the question: what were lesbian women doing while gay men were going to baths and sex clubs? I suspect they were doing a lot of the same, but I haven't heard that history yet. My greatest sense of excitement is that Moore seems to be embracing the broadness of sexuality - from normative to bizarre, from monogamous to wildly promiscuous - without passing judgment on what is safe and sane. I like this, because it's what I believe fervently in. I was never very good at promiscuity, and I am very excited and happy about monogamy for myself. And my brief exposure to SM didn't find a niche with me. Yet I insist on the value of promiscuity for those who want to, and on embracing leather and SM as a wonderful part of larger sexual culture. It will be interesting to see how this book lays out the argument for understanding history and envisioning a future beyond shame. After all, shame is the biggest force that shaped my sexuality, and it will take a lifetime to recover.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

why i hate and love religion

I just got off the phone with my mom--we talk every week or so. And ever now and then, as I did today, I have to bring up the vast gulf between us, created by her disagreement with my gayness and my disagreement with her position about that.
The ridiculous thing is that she must choose between her love for God (as she sees Him) and her love for her son. Just as I must choose between my love for my mother and my love for myself. She and I are essentially in the same position. We have to choose between our commitment to some kind of meaningful family relationship and our commitment to living out our ideals and life experiences. It's too easy to say that being gay for me trumps her faith--but for her, faith is life, and her experience of God is as real as my experience of love with my partner. I hate the fact that religion has separated belief and life to the extent that lived experience is somehow hedged by a belief structure instead of the other way around. I love religion in that it gives me language to talk about this.
I don't have a handle on it either, but I am trying to live through the lessons of experience--allowing that to inform my beliefs about the world and spirituality. For me, it's about trying to live a conversation among elements of my life; my belief in what's right; and the religious symbolism I that I inherit, discover, and make up.
I hate the fact that I understand where my mom is coming from (after all, I came from there, too!). It makes it too hard to condemn her (to hell or ignorance, or exile from my life). At the same time, it's hard to know what I'm still doing with the relationship. I asked her what it means to love her son in this context--and I have to ask myself the same question, what does it mean to love my mom in this context?
Part of the answer involves grieving for the aspects of our relationship that are lost, along with my relationship to the community and extended family that I came from. Part of the answer also asks me to return to my belief in the importance of family relationships while reconfiguring my understanding of what it means to be a family (with my blood kin and with the family I am creating and living in).

Sunday, September 7, 2008

two thoughts for a Sunday morning

This morning as I read BBC News and my Christology textbook, two thoughts keep bobbing to the surface:
1. The federal bailout of mortgage firms Freddie Mac & Fannie Mae: I believe I recall an interview on Marketplace (Public Radio International) that said it's an open secret that these public-private partnerships are effectively a socialized banking system. WIth the full take-over, we now have government-run mortgage banks. This is a peculiar move for a Republican administration that is supposedly dedicated to small government and a free market. Don't get me wrong--I support the bail-out to reduce financial crisis on national and individual levels--but it seems like a funny inconsistency between ideology and practice. I hope it puts to rest the peculiar mistrust of socialism (the idea that some things must be administered by the state instead of the free market -- agencies such as police, fire, defense, roads...).
2. My Christology (the study of Jesus as the Christ figure in Christianity) textbook presents a pretty traditional view. There's a lot of talk about how Jesus represented a new relationship between God and humanity. It seems like a funny inconsistency, to claim that Jesus changed everything, and Jesus is the only thing that has and ever will change everything. You have to open to the possibility that change will happen, and then close quickly to the idea that change could ever happen. Well, and you also have to buy the Bible texts as historically accurate and "true." I don't buy the "new relationship" thing, because I believe religion is always involves looking in the rearview mirror and interpreting previous texts and traditions in light of current situations (just like the early Christians, and some today, look in the rearview mirror and interpret Hebrew Bible texts as if they automatically point to Jesus--a strange assumption, given the contexts of the writing.

I guess the real point is that someday I'll have to either accept the traditions I was born in, problems and all, and find a way to sift through, interpret, and be comfortable--or I'll have to leave it behind as no longer worthy of being passed on.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

new movie - looking forward to it!

They recently released the trailer for Milk, Gus Van Sant's new film about Harvey Milk.
Here's the trailer: Apple Trailers: Milk

ritual, habit, reality

Today I'm reading about ritual and body memory. One of the authors writes about how cognitive science reinforces the role of ritual in structuring our memories, emotions, thoughts, and habits - our worldview and ethical stance. She writes about how ritual (actions that are consciously set apart for a special function, whether overtly religious or not) creates neural pathways and habits that, over time, structure how we interact and think about the world. I don't think ritual HAS to be "set apart for a special function" in order to structure our worldview--because all of our habits can activate memory and evoke emotional and cognitive responses. It reminds me of how important it is to be conscious about the habits I form. I think about how my partner can get cranky if he doesn't get out of the house and move every day--his habits of exercise create a positive mood, and a period of inactivity probably also remind him of negative experiences where he could get out of the house. I also think about my mother-in-law's morning greeting. Every morning she kisses us on both cheeks (this also happens whenever we come home at any time of day) and asks how we slept. At first, this annoyed me because it disrupted my trajectory: I was reading, or making breakfast, or lost in my thoughts--and telling her how I slept (which was almost always "fine, and you?" seemed like an unnecessarily disruption. But I began to realize that these greetings reinforce a way of relationship. It prioritizes our relationship, and our concern for each other, above whatever else I might be doing. So I engage in this habit, which still can feel disruptive at times, because it highlights my personal (and spiritual) value that relationships are more important than whatever I am reading or making or doing. Last of all, I think of what I've heard about the Republican National Convention (and also the Democratic one, but less so). It's what so many preachers know so well: repeating phrases and images can make them into reality for many people. If you say it often enough, even an untruth can become an unconscious association/neural pathway. If you question patriotism or experience or ideological stance often enough--the question will arise whenever the candidates name comes up, no matter how unquestionable that person's patriotism, experience, or stance actually is. Particularly in the context of a ritual such as a convention (I might consider it sort of like a religious tent revival or church service that reinforces shared images, ideologies, and ethics of engaging with the world).
It reminds me that I want to continue sifting through my life to find the important habits that I can "set apart" to reinforce and create habits out of the ways I want to engage in the world.

Friday, September 5, 2008

classes

So I finally got my sched figured out, and I think I'm satisfied. One of classes I was most looking forward to, "The Quest for Spirituality in America," got cancelled. I replaced it with "Remembering," a theological and liturgical look at remembering and forgetting (individual and cultural/social levels). I'm also taking "Christ, Krishna, Buddha," a look at central figures in three of the world's religions. I also found out at the last minute the I had to take "Organizational Leadership," which I'm trying to muster excitement about, because it deals with group and systems theory. I was also enrolled in a class on the history and theology of the United Church of Christ, but at the last minute I switched it out in order to take "A Short History of Hell." Emily said I need to blog about that--trading in a church history class for a class on hell. Hm.
The professor opened with the cartoon "Not Without My Handbag" -- by Aardman Animation. Check it out on Youtube!
Should work out all right--though next semester I'm stuck with three required courses that I've been putting off a bit....
The upshot is that next semester there's also a class dealing with the role of Christianity in the Bay Area LGBT community since WWII.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

beginning is ending is familiar

Today was my first day of classes -- begun this afternoon with a glorious bike ride to classes -- no traffic, no early mornings, no backache...and no singing in the car to myself. As usual with beginnings, something went wrong with my bike (last year, somebody stole the back wheel and the seat). This year the top fell off my speedometer, and my sunglasses broke in my bag. It was okay.
I saw some old friends I didn't expect to see, and I felt like a new student at the same time.
I also had the old familiar questions: am I religious enough for this place? am I the right kind of religious? Luckily I also had the familiar corrections. It doesn't matter what kind of religious I am, or what quantity. What matters is what I want to learn, and what relationship I have to my own sense of spirituality. Blah blah blah. It was a good day back, even if it wasn't exactly perfect.