Rogue Reverend

Learning from the Other Side

Some of you know that I’m on Twitter. I have to admit that I find it difficult to put my thoughts together in more than 140 characters now, so bear with me.

I have two great and interesting types of people I follow on Twitter. The first are sex workers and advocates (shout out, ya’ll!), and the second are emergent-type church folks.

What exactly is emergent church? Who the hell knows?

Here’s what Christianity Today (not one of my favorite magazines, by the way) says:

It is said that emerging Christians confess their faith like mainliners—meaning they say things publicly they don’t really believe. They drink like Southern Baptists—meaning, to adapt some words from Mark Twain, they are teetotalers when it is judicious. They talk like Catholics—meaning they cuss and use naughty words. They evangelize and theologize like the Reformed—meaning they rarely evangelize, yet theologize all the time. They worship like charismatics—meaning with their whole bodies, some parts tattooed. They vote like Episcopalians—meaning they eat, drink, and sleep on their left side. And, they deny the truth—meaning they’ve got a latte-soaked copy of Derrida in their smoke- and beer-stained backpacks.

As I understand it, though, the emergent church movement is about evangelicalism losing it’s certitude, becoming more open to ambiguity, and worrying less about who is “in” and who is “out.” Which, of course, can’t be a bad thing.

But back in the day (2005), there was also something called the emerging church, which seemed different than the emergent church. Where the emergent church was conservative evangelicals moving more towards the middle, the emerging church was liberal or progressives moving toward the middle. They may have merged into one movement, I don’t know. And just for the record, the emergent/emerging church seems to have become another program to build church, which, of course, seems antithetical.

But here’s how it is in my life: I walked away from evangelicalism years ago, tossed it all out, and the emerging church was my way of struggling to keep any bit of my tradition. So I’ve begun listening to the emergent movement.

Today I listened to a sermon by Jay Bakker, of Revolution NYC, also of One Punk Under God, and the son of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. I have to say, it was good. Bakker quoted one of my favorites, Will Campbell, I think from Soul Among Lions, and he really, really has an amazing hold on God’s love for us. As Bakker said, “Jesus love us and wants to make a mixed tape for us.”

I recommend a listen.

I ♥ the Holy Spirit

“The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience!” ~ Emily Dickinson

Most of you, by now, know that Pentecost is my favorite day in the Christian year. There’s about reasons why I love it, not the least of is that it’s really the birthday of the Church. Another reason? I love the story, and the visual of tongues of fire and people speaking in tongues.

But mostly I love it because it’s an encounter with the Holy Spirit. More »

More Shower Writing and Staying Tuned

I don’t know if it makes any sense, but here’s more of the writing. I can’t imagine that it makes much sense to you, since I don’t understand it.

I had a lovely evening tonight with a friend from church. I so wanted to explain all of Sunday’s sermon to her, because our conversation went to the same places that the sermon is going. But I just stayed quiet.

It’s like saying, “Stay tuned.”

Finally, Reconciling Choices

1 Corinthians 13:8-12

“For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, Yes.” ~Dag Hammarskjöld

Carol Flinders writes in At the Root of This Longing: Reconciling a Spiritual Hunger and a Feminist Thirst that there are certain precepts that seem to be constants in religious practice: 1) Be silent. 2) Put yourself last. 3) Resist and re-channel your desires, especially your sexual desires, and 4) Enclose yourself. Cut yourself off from the external world.

Flinders maintains that feminism, and I would add that post-modernity, tells us the opposite: 1) Find your voice, tell your story, 2) Know who you are, establish your identity, 3) Reclaim your body and your desires, and 4) Move about freely and fearlessly. Take back the streets.

We have to reconcile the two stances.

I’ve been considering two definitions of reconciliation. The first, most used in an accounting or auditing context, is what we talk about when we reconcile our checkbooks. We compare two numbers to demonstrate the basis for the difference between them, or we balance debits, credits, and totals between two systems. The second definition, used mostly in a theological or relational sense is the reestablishing of friendly relations, either between two individuals or between God and humanity.

We mostly understand reconciliation to mean, “reestablishing friendly relations.”

What if, instead, we think about reconciliation the way that is more like reconciling our checkbooks, looking at two very different totals, demonstrating the basis for the difference between them, and being okay with it?

If we consider Flinders’ options, whether we will be silent or tell our story, whether we will put ourselves last or establish our identity, whether we will re-channel or reclaim our desires and sexuality, or whether we will enclose ourselves or move about freely, we see the hinge here, right? We must reconcile between the two of them, and it hinges on choice.

We cannot and should not be made to be silent or forced to be loud.
We cannot and should not be made to serve or forced to be served.
We cannot and should not be made to be chaste or forced to be sexual.
We cannot and should not be made to cloister or forced to roam. More »

The Good Part of That Sermon

Carol Flinders writes in At the Root of This Longing: Reconciling a Spiritual Hunger and a Feminist Thirst that there are certain precepts that seem to be constants in religious practice: 1) Be silent. 2) Put yourself last. 3) Resist and rechannel your desires, especially your sexual desires, and 4) Enclose yourself. Cut yourself off from the external world.

Flinders maintains that feminism, and I would add that post-modernity, tells us the opposite: 1) Find your voice, tell your story, 2) Know who you are, establish your identity, 3) Reclaim your body and your desires, and 4) Move about freely and fearlessly. Take back the streets.

We have to reconcile the two stances.

I’ve been considering two definitions of reconciliation during this time of Lent. The first, most used in an accounting or auditing context, is what we talk about when we reconcile our checkbooks. We compare two numbers to demonstrate the basis for the difference between them, or we balance debits, credits, and totals between two systems. The second definition, used mostly in a theological or relational sense is the reestablishing of friendly relations, either between two individuals or between God and humanity.

We mostly understand reconciliation to mean, “reestablishing friendly relations.”

What if, instead, we think about reconciliation the way that is more like reconciling our checkbooks, looking at two very different totals, demonstrating the basis for the difference between them, and being okay with it?

If we consider Flinders’ options, whether we will be silent or tell our story, whether we will put ourselves last or establish our identity, whether we will rechannel or reclaim our desires and sexuality, or whether we will enclose ourselves or move about freely, we see the hinge here, right? We must reconcile between the two of them, and it hinges on choice.

We cannot and should not be made to be silent or forced to be loud.
We cannot and should not be made to serve or forced to be served.
We cannot and should not be made to be chaste or forced to be sexual.
We cannot and should not be made to cloister or forced to roam.

You see, agency, or the ability to exert personal power in our lives, is a continuum. This continuum is dynamic, changing every hour, every day, every week. It is influenced by many factors: race, age, gender, education level, class, privilege, beauty or lack of it, addictions. Wow. There are so many that I can’t name them all, and each one of these factors has layers to it. And there’s one more, that sometimes I think is the most important one of all: how much agency do you believe that you have?

Each of us live in this continuum of agency. And the most important factor is how much we believe we have agency. Shall I say that again? We must know that we have the power to make our own decisions, to lead our own lives, to control our futures.