Hypothetical non-exclusivity
The OTHER thing that made me roll my eyes at Sunday's sermon was the insertion of a picture of Pope Francis into the slide show and about three sentences about the Pope without any transition or context. I don't know what the sentences were, because my notes say "Pope F'n Francis??? That was sudden." at that point. Just in case you had missed it, my church is not Catholic. We are left-wing Protestant. We are (in practice) more like UUs than like Catholics. I thought this might be a reasonable occasion to talk about membership and acceptance in a religious context.
I am, of course, not a member of "my" church. See previous posts in the "religion" tag about cognitive dissonance, why I'm not, etc. Insofar as I am a true member of a community of belief and spirituality, that community is a song circle--I went there last night instead of to church. I do have some opinions about who should be members of "my" church. I'm posting them here partly in hopes of being told to go f* myself. In a way, the only criticism I can offer as a non-member is to point out hypocrisy. Weird, right? This rant is probably also going to explain why I don't go join the UUs but have joked about giving up Protestantism for Lent one of these years.
According to my notes, the slide after the picture-of-Pope-Francis slide said "We agree to differ. We resolve to love. We unite to serve." This is apparently the motto of Plymouth Congregational UCC of Des Moines. Wint then spent the rest of the sermon talking about how awesome this motto is, although he hit points 1 and 2 harder than point 3. It is a pretty awesome motto and most functional activist organizations have to have some version of it. But, OK, if it's not empty, what does it mean? Who is "we"? Isn't "love" a transitive verb?
Wint's take on the difficulties of implementing the motto is that the important part is respecting people who disagree with you. He told a story about his friendship with another pastor and concluded, "Right relationships trump right beliefs," quoting (I think) Thich Nhat Hanh (also not a Protestant). If I were not about to begin listing all the problems with that, I would say I cannot BEGIN to list all the problems with that. Not a comprehensive list. Also: there are some non-problematic ways to use that quote as wisdom. I'm not knocking Thich Nhat Hanh in general. Well, maybe a little.
Problem 1: That's a belief you've got there.
Problem 2: My relationship with you is attender to pastor. How do I tell if that is the right relationship? Are you entitled to respect beyond what I give the person sitting behind me? Should I refrain from criticizing your sermons on the internet, the way I would refrain from posting horrible things I overheard the person behind me saying? Is criticism disrespectful?
Problem 3: What is the right relationship to have with someone who does not treat me well? The egregious case is people staying with abusive romantic partners, but the one brought up in the sermon is gayness: if I am dating a woman, and my relation insists on talking in my hearing about the disgusting immorality of same-sex romance, do I have to go to Thanksgiving at her house? Is a boycott disrespectful? If people I see every day persistently mis-gender me, does right relationship require a polite correction every goddamn time? Or is "right relationship" a code for privileged people being polite to the people oppressed by the system that produces their privilege? Does it even apply to oppressed people? (Oppression is a contextual variable, not an absolute status, for this purpose.) Does it mean oppressed people being polite to privileged people, and thereby preclude revolutionary action?
Problem 4: What role does my absolute conviction that there is no God play in my ability to show respect for people who have an absolute conviction that there is a God?
Tammy, one of the associate pastors, gave a brilliant sermon on the fiery furnace that handled Problem 4 well, and got into Problem 3--that some people, including you, have beliefs they will not compromise, and that is OK and it is OK to let that influence your relationship. Many relationships will survive because they are loving and able to stand honesty, but some will not and that's not the end of the world. That interpretation ALSO casts a lot of light (heh.) on who "we" are in Line 2 of the motto. "We" are people who differ on some things, but are still able to tolerate interacting with each other long enough to "unite to serve." "We" love each other--which means, I suppose, providing enough affirmation to make tolerance palatable.
But to do this you have to be really careful who you let into your "we." They have to believe in service, for one thing! They have to love and respect you back, so that you don't find yourself perpetually losing a game of ethics-argument chicken. Another sermon years ago (and I hope it's one of Wint's, because he really does occasionally make points that stick with me, but I'm not sure) described a community of nuns considering applicants. Part 1 of qualification was whether the applicant could become a member, whether their beliefs were compatible. Part 2 was whether the current members wanted the new person to join, because the new person would change the community. It was a REALLY IMPORTANT point. You CAN have a community that provides sufficient affirmation to supply the emotional needs of all its members--if you control the number and type of members.
So I think creeds are really important. I take vows seriously for someone who breaks promises as often as I do. I think the practice of blackballing applicants to fraternities is a really, really good idea. I think gatekeeping is critical to organizational health. And I think the example Jesus set with the lepers and tax collectors and adulterers puts churches in a really awkward position.
It puts them in the position of gatekeeping while pretending they aren't gatekeeping. It puts them in the position of having one set of membership criteria on paper and a completely different one in practice--while trying to be a home of last resort, a haven, a sanctuary, a welcoming place. (Love grows here, much?) And loses worst? The people who meet the paper criteria and don't meet the real criteria.
I'm in the reverse position. I'm white, I'm educated, I show up to non-worship activities, I've been around FOREVER, my parents are pillars of the congregation, I engage religion with both head and heart. They let me teach Sunday School, for Christ's sake. I am a member of the church community by the unwritten rules.
The Catholics, from my limited knowledge, have this one pretty well worked out. (That happens a lot with Catholicism. There might be some problems in the deep structure, but they've been doing this thing and keeping records so long that the stuff that works, WORKS.) They are pretty insistent about the membership criteria. There are rules you have to follow and a bunch of stuff you have to believe (digression about pretending to believe noted and declined). The outward symbol of membership, communion, is members-only, and is also the core practice of daily worship. But then, if you follow the rules, there are ALSO rules for what you do when you need emotional support. Did something wrong? Go to confession, and the priest (from my, again, limited and outside understanding) has to a) listen, b) make some sort of judgment, and c) give you a recommendation. Now a bad priest or a bad priest-congregant match can cause problems, but there is at least recognition that people need regular acknowledgement of their reality.
The problem with the faithful dealing with God directly is that when you deal with God directly She starts sounding an awful lot like the inside of your own head. For some reason. When your faith is strong (either as a person or in the time sense), that can be good enough. When your faith is weak, not so much. You can cease existing.
Closed communion isn't very Christ-like (sorry Catholics), but it IS an available-daily reminder that, whatever else you've screwed up, you have met ONE requirement and you may have a cookie. It's not a great cookie (actually maybe they're delicious, I've never eaten one, but they don't look that great), but you earned it. Whereas open communion, eh. They'd give that to just anybody. Atheists and stuff.
This is not to say that I believe UCC churches are naturally-doomed propositions, or even that I believe they necessarily become elitist liberal-in-the-worst-sense wank-fests. But I do believe that telling people to accept everyone is about as useful in fostering acceptance for the needy as telling people not to have sex is useful in lowering the birth rate. It's not that it's WRONG, exactly... but maybe you could be a wee bit more specific. I don't interact with lepers, tax collectors, or adulterers other than myself on a daily basis. Are there particular people, and particular ways of displaying acceptance, that I should maybe notice?
In other words, I want a religion that requires concrete action. It should also forgive me when I forget to put the tarp over the concrete because I'm playing Sims and it rains and everything melts. Preferably. But if no quests are offered, I can't get any points for completing them, and how do I level up? (This paragraph btyb Awkward Metaphors, Inc.) I want causes worth fighting for, and I want to believe that they are just. I spend enough time worrying that maybe I'm not doing the right thing. I would rather act. (Hence the utility of Very Socialist Boyfriend and the IWW.)
I'm getting the impression, writing this, that as someone who fights with depression ("Give me that hour back!" "No! I'm going to sleep!" "Jerk!"), I see Catholicism as having a well-developed depression treatment plan in place, where my church COULD, but doesn't. Well. I'm not the only person in the congregation who has trouble getting out of bed some days, either.
Oh, wait, that's not fair. Reminders that you're superior to some people and should help them are really good for depression. Usually works for me. I mean, just read this post. I LOVE feeling superior.
Wow, I'm really down on liberal religion this week. I still want a "proud member of the religious left" bumper sticker. For my high horse.
...I cannot stop with the semi-false modesty. Nnnrg.
I am, of course, not a member of "my" church. See previous posts in the "religion" tag about cognitive dissonance, why I'm not, etc. Insofar as I am a true member of a community of belief and spirituality, that community is a song circle--I went there last night instead of to church. I do have some opinions about who should be members of "my" church. I'm posting them here partly in hopes of being told to go f* myself. In a way, the only criticism I can offer as a non-member is to point out hypocrisy. Weird, right? This rant is probably also going to explain why I don't go join the UUs but have joked about giving up Protestantism for Lent one of these years.
According to my notes, the slide after the picture-of-Pope-Francis slide said "We agree to differ. We resolve to love. We unite to serve." This is apparently the motto of Plymouth Congregational UCC of Des Moines. Wint then spent the rest of the sermon talking about how awesome this motto is, although he hit points 1 and 2 harder than point 3. It is a pretty awesome motto and most functional activist organizations have to have some version of it. But, OK, if it's not empty, what does it mean? Who is "we"? Isn't "love" a transitive verb?
Wint's take on the difficulties of implementing the motto is that the important part is respecting people who disagree with you. He told a story about his friendship with another pastor and concluded, "Right relationships trump right beliefs," quoting (I think) Thich Nhat Hanh (also not a Protestant). If I were not about to begin listing all the problems with that, I would say I cannot BEGIN to list all the problems with that. Not a comprehensive list. Also: there are some non-problematic ways to use that quote as wisdom. I'm not knocking Thich Nhat Hanh in general. Well, maybe a little.
Problem 1: That's a belief you've got there.
Problem 2: My relationship with you is attender to pastor. How do I tell if that is the right relationship? Are you entitled to respect beyond what I give the person sitting behind me? Should I refrain from criticizing your sermons on the internet, the way I would refrain from posting horrible things I overheard the person behind me saying? Is criticism disrespectful?
Problem 3: What is the right relationship to have with someone who does not treat me well? The egregious case is people staying with abusive romantic partners, but the one brought up in the sermon is gayness: if I am dating a woman, and my relation insists on talking in my hearing about the disgusting immorality of same-sex romance, do I have to go to Thanksgiving at her house? Is a boycott disrespectful? If people I see every day persistently mis-gender me, does right relationship require a polite correction every goddamn time? Or is "right relationship" a code for privileged people being polite to the people oppressed by the system that produces their privilege? Does it even apply to oppressed people? (Oppression is a contextual variable, not an absolute status, for this purpose.) Does it mean oppressed people being polite to privileged people, and thereby preclude revolutionary action?
Problem 4: What role does my absolute conviction that there is no God play in my ability to show respect for people who have an absolute conviction that there is a God?
Tammy, one of the associate pastors, gave a brilliant sermon on the fiery furnace that handled Problem 4 well, and got into Problem 3--that some people, including you, have beliefs they will not compromise, and that is OK and it is OK to let that influence your relationship. Many relationships will survive because they are loving and able to stand honesty, but some will not and that's not the end of the world. That interpretation ALSO casts a lot of light (heh.) on who "we" are in Line 2 of the motto. "We" are people who differ on some things, but are still able to tolerate interacting with each other long enough to "unite to serve." "We" love each other--which means, I suppose, providing enough affirmation to make tolerance palatable.
But to do this you have to be really careful who you let into your "we." They have to believe in service, for one thing! They have to love and respect you back, so that you don't find yourself perpetually losing a game of ethics-argument chicken. Another sermon years ago (and I hope it's one of Wint's, because he really does occasionally make points that stick with me, but I'm not sure) described a community of nuns considering applicants. Part 1 of qualification was whether the applicant could become a member, whether their beliefs were compatible. Part 2 was whether the current members wanted the new person to join, because the new person would change the community. It was a REALLY IMPORTANT point. You CAN have a community that provides sufficient affirmation to supply the emotional needs of all its members--if you control the number and type of members.
So I think creeds are really important. I take vows seriously for someone who breaks promises as often as I do. I think the practice of blackballing applicants to fraternities is a really, really good idea. I think gatekeeping is critical to organizational health. And I think the example Jesus set with the lepers and tax collectors and adulterers puts churches in a really awkward position.
It puts them in the position of gatekeeping while pretending they aren't gatekeeping. It puts them in the position of having one set of membership criteria on paper and a completely different one in practice--while trying to be a home of last resort, a haven, a sanctuary, a welcoming place. (Love grows here, much?) And loses worst? The people who meet the paper criteria and don't meet the real criteria.
I'm in the reverse position. I'm white, I'm educated, I show up to non-worship activities, I've been around FOREVER, my parents are pillars of the congregation, I engage religion with both head and heart. They let me teach Sunday School, for Christ's sake. I am a member of the church community by the unwritten rules.
The Catholics, from my limited knowledge, have this one pretty well worked out. (That happens a lot with Catholicism. There might be some problems in the deep structure, but they've been doing this thing and keeping records so long that the stuff that works, WORKS.) They are pretty insistent about the membership criteria. There are rules you have to follow and a bunch of stuff you have to believe (digression about pretending to believe noted and declined). The outward symbol of membership, communion, is members-only, and is also the core practice of daily worship. But then, if you follow the rules, there are ALSO rules for what you do when you need emotional support. Did something wrong? Go to confession, and the priest (from my, again, limited and outside understanding) has to a) listen, b) make some sort of judgment, and c) give you a recommendation. Now a bad priest or a bad priest-congregant match can cause problems, but there is at least recognition that people need regular acknowledgement of their reality.
The problem with the faithful dealing with God directly is that when you deal with God directly She starts sounding an awful lot like the inside of your own head. For some reason. When your faith is strong (either as a person or in the time sense), that can be good enough. When your faith is weak, not so much. You can cease existing.
Closed communion isn't very Christ-like (sorry Catholics), but it IS an available-daily reminder that, whatever else you've screwed up, you have met ONE requirement and you may have a cookie. It's not a great cookie (actually maybe they're delicious, I've never eaten one, but they don't look that great), but you earned it. Whereas open communion, eh. They'd give that to just anybody. Atheists and stuff.
This is not to say that I believe UCC churches are naturally-doomed propositions, or even that I believe they necessarily become elitist liberal-in-the-worst-sense wank-fests. But I do believe that telling people to accept everyone is about as useful in fostering acceptance for the needy as telling people not to have sex is useful in lowering the birth rate. It's not that it's WRONG, exactly... but maybe you could be a wee bit more specific. I don't interact with lepers, tax collectors, or adulterers other than myself on a daily basis. Are there particular people, and particular ways of displaying acceptance, that I should maybe notice?
In other words, I want a religion that requires concrete action. It should also forgive me when I forget to put the tarp over the concrete because I'm playing Sims and it rains and everything melts. Preferably. But if no quests are offered, I can't get any points for completing them, and how do I level up? (This paragraph btyb Awkward Metaphors, Inc.) I want causes worth fighting for, and I want to believe that they are just. I spend enough time worrying that maybe I'm not doing the right thing. I would rather act. (Hence the utility of Very Socialist Boyfriend and the IWW.)
I'm getting the impression, writing this, that as someone who fights with depression ("Give me that hour back!" "No! I'm going to sleep!" "Jerk!"), I see Catholicism as having a well-developed depression treatment plan in place, where my church COULD, but doesn't. Well. I'm not the only person in the congregation who has trouble getting out of bed some days, either.
Oh, wait, that's not fair. Reminders that you're superior to some people and should help them are really good for depression. Usually works for me. I mean, just read this post. I LOVE feeling superior.
Wow, I'm really down on liberal religion this week. I still want a "proud member of the religious left" bumper sticker. For my high horse.
...I cannot stop with the semi-false modesty. Nnnrg.