by Brian Gumm
Late this past spring I opened my campus mailbox at Eastern Mennonite Seminary and found three VHS tapes (!!) therein contained. No note was attached with these tapes and I still have no idea who gave me these (I'm guessing a seminary professor trying to reduce office clutter). They were labeled "Brethren in Transition," the name of a conference or symposium held at Bridgewater College. The date provided was October 3-5, 1991. My audiovisual gear situation was such that I couldn't even watch these tapes, so I took them to the Learning Resources Center folks at EMU and paid them $11 to get them all converted to DVD. I was then able to weave these video resources into the syllabus for a directed study on Brethren Beliefs and Practices which I'm working through this summer.
So today, I popped in the DVD with my first assigned lecture, which was given by Donald Durnbaugh and entitled "Closing the Loop: Germantown and Philadelphia." Durnbaugh's historical look at Brethren in transition was focused through the lens of these two congregations and their lives through the late 19th and 20th centuries.
From the conclusions which Durnbaugh drew from this historical analysis, he moves to a number of implications for the Church of the Brethren at that point in history, nearly two decades ago. One such implication he describes as, essentially: "The Brethren will persist, but they will need to change." One potential area for change was ethnic diversity. He cites a Brethren pastor, Olin Mitchell (sp?), as having then-recently predicted that ethnic minorities in the Church of the Brethren, then (ca. 1991) comprising less than 1% of membership will increase to a full 50% by 2010." Mitchell's reasoning for this was based on his observation that the spiritual vitality he was seeing was happening in that less than 1% group, ethnic minorities. Durnbaugh immediately comments that he's not so sure of that prediction, but found it interesting enough to share.
Well it's 2010, so how are we doing in that department? I ask this question out of genuine curiosity. My experience in the Church of the Brethren has been limited to a rural Midwestern, vastly white backwater of the denomination (I don't say this disrespectfully). I didn't go to a Brethren college (not that there are a whole lot of Brethren at those to begin with) and I'm not attending a Brethren seminary. So I'm not trying to be flip or sarcastic by asking that question, which I'll ask again in closing, somewhat differently (and much more verbosely):
How well is the Church of the Brethren doing in terms of being a group of believers in and followers of Jesus Christ, who called into existence a kingdom not of this world, invited our participation in/hastening the coming of that kingdom, which transcends (doesn't necessarily erase) all manner of categories including ethnicity? Are we a group grasping the spiritual vitality to make such a staggering new reality more apparent in our world?
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Earl's Sermon
by Anna Lisa Gross
While I was thrilled to hear sexuality being preached about directly, rather than alluded to surreptitiously, from the Annual Conference pulpit, I have a few frustrations with "Measurably New."
It certainly would not be possible to preach a single sermon that could speak to all 3000+ gathered at Annual Conference. But this sermon was clearly not aimed at me. I do believe that many in the room were moved by the message, and I am glad for that. But I'm frustrated that our conversations about sexuality are always so elementary.
First of all, Earl consistently used the term "homosexuality." While this is quite reasonable for his generation, younger people are much more inclined to talk about LGBTQ or queer folks. Homosexual does not apply to all the people whose sexualities are under scrutiny in these conversations. "LGBTQ" is a much more inclusive term, particularly for those who are uncomfortable with the term "queer."
Secondly, the scriptural grounding for the sermon located LGBTQ folks as sinners (even though I don't think that's what Earl intended to preach). So often we have used the story of the woman about to be stoned for adultery (and this time Zaccheus the tax collector) to discuss sexuality. The beauty of these stories is that they call for loving, respectful, humanizing interaction with "sinners." The danger is that they frame LGBTQ folks as sinners. If we consider a sexual or gender identity to be a sin, the only way to repent is to change a core part of one's identity. Some Christians say that the sexuality itself is not a sin, but sexual acts between people of the same gender are, and therefore only celibate LGBTQ folks are acceptable. So we either ask queer people to become fundamentally new people, or to deny themselves the fullness of love, sex and intimacy. This is horrendous, and I have much more to say about it at another time.
Thirdly, the conversation continues to be one between straight people about queer people. Earl never "spoke to" LGBTQ folks in his sermon. We fall into this faulty mindset continuously in the church, telling ourselves that straight is default, and forgetting that there are queer people in the pews right now, this moment. But fewer and fewer all the time when our language does not reflect this reality. Many people in the church talk about, but not to, queer people.
Fourthly, the sermon talked about only one aspect of sexuality - homosexuality. I can't believe that we continue to have conversations about the complexities of sexuality and spirituality that are so narrow. This allows straight people in the room, regardless of their perversions or poor behavior, to never be under scrutiny. In a society in which rape, child abuse, infidelity, prostitution, harassment, lack of enjoyment in sex, shame-filled sex, and many other unhealthy sexual experiences are rampant, why do we only talk about "homosexuality?"
I do appreciate Earl's bold sermon, and realize that he will be one of the most talked about people throughout the denomination in the weeks to come. Earl as an old, male, straight, white, educated and otherwise privileged person has the capital to spend on such a sermon, and I'm glad he used it.
While I was thrilled to hear sexuality being preached about directly, rather than alluded to surreptitiously, from the Annual Conference pulpit, I have a few frustrations with "Measurably New."
It certainly would not be possible to preach a single sermon that could speak to all 3000+ gathered at Annual Conference. But this sermon was clearly not aimed at me. I do believe that many in the room were moved by the message, and I am glad for that. But I'm frustrated that our conversations about sexuality are always so elementary.
First of all, Earl consistently used the term "homosexuality." While this is quite reasonable for his generation, younger people are much more inclined to talk about LGBTQ or queer folks. Homosexual does not apply to all the people whose sexualities are under scrutiny in these conversations. "LGBTQ" is a much more inclusive term, particularly for those who are uncomfortable with the term "queer."
Secondly, the scriptural grounding for the sermon located LGBTQ folks as sinners (even though I don't think that's what Earl intended to preach). So often we have used the story of the woman about to be stoned for adultery (and this time Zaccheus the tax collector) to discuss sexuality. The beauty of these stories is that they call for loving, respectful, humanizing interaction with "sinners." The danger is that they frame LGBTQ folks as sinners. If we consider a sexual or gender identity to be a sin, the only way to repent is to change a core part of one's identity. Some Christians say that the sexuality itself is not a sin, but sexual acts between people of the same gender are, and therefore only celibate LGBTQ folks are acceptable. So we either ask queer people to become fundamentally new people, or to deny themselves the fullness of love, sex and intimacy. This is horrendous, and I have much more to say about it at another time.
Thirdly, the conversation continues to be one between straight people about queer people. Earl never "spoke to" LGBTQ folks in his sermon. We fall into this faulty mindset continuously in the church, telling ourselves that straight is default, and forgetting that there are queer people in the pews right now, this moment. But fewer and fewer all the time when our language does not reflect this reality. Many people in the church talk about, but not to, queer people.
Fourthly, the sermon talked about only one aspect of sexuality - homosexuality. I can't believe that we continue to have conversations about the complexities of sexuality and spirituality that are so narrow. This allows straight people in the room, regardless of their perversions or poor behavior, to never be under scrutiny. In a society in which rape, child abuse, infidelity, prostitution, harassment, lack of enjoyment in sex, shame-filled sex, and many other unhealthy sexual experiences are rampant, why do we only talk about "homosexuality?"
I do appreciate Earl's bold sermon, and realize that he will be one of the most talked about people throughout the denomination in the weeks to come. Earl as an old, male, straight, white, educated and otherwise privileged person has the capital to spend on such a sermon, and I'm glad he used it.
Polity, prophecy, and the issues we don't like to name
by Nick Miller Kauffman
I've heard a few voices--usually moderate or conservative voices--saying the Church is "weary" of the "homosexual issue," or even that the matter is "settled." It certainly isn't settled: the very fact that we continue to talk about it demonstrates that. And in response to those who think we should just move on and deal with other things, I would only say that some of us do not have the privilege of being weary.
Riffing off this strong belief that this is something we need to talk about, and the special response conversations that will soon be going on across the denomination, I would like to see a few separate pieces addressing the queer rights/same-sex covenants issues in the Church of the Brethren, with special attention to responding to Monday night's sermon by Earl Fike, Jr. I'm going to write something supportive of the sermon, and I think I have someone lined up to criticize it from the "left" (i.e. saying it doesn't go far enough). I'd like to see someone critical of the sermon from the "right," and perhaps someone critical from a more moderate position (i.e. arguing that it was simply not constructive). If you'd like to write a response and aren't on the authors list, comment on this post or send a message to kauffni (at) bethanyseminary (dot) edu and I'll add you.
I've heard a few voices--usually moderate or conservative voices--saying the Church is "weary" of the "homosexual issue," or even that the matter is "settled." It certainly isn't settled: the very fact that we continue to talk about it demonstrates that. And in response to those who think we should just move on and deal with other things, I would only say that some of us do not have the privilege of being weary.
Riffing off this strong belief that this is something we need to talk about, and the special response conversations that will soon be going on across the denomination, I would like to see a few separate pieces addressing the queer rights/same-sex covenants issues in the Church of the Brethren, with special attention to responding to Monday night's sermon by Earl Fike, Jr. I'm going to write something supportive of the sermon, and I think I have someone lined up to criticize it from the "left" (i.e. saying it doesn't go far enough). I'd like to see someone critical of the sermon from the "right," and perhaps someone critical from a more moderate position (i.e. arguing that it was simply not constructive). If you'd like to write a response and aren't on the authors list, comment on this post or send a message to kauffni (at) bethanyseminary (dot) edu and I'll add you.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Whither the digital Brethren at Annual Conference?
by Brian Gumm
I just noticed this on the page for Brethren Life & Thought:
Also, I heard a few things were getting live-streamed/recorded at AC this year. Seems like this one would be a prime candidate.
I just noticed this on the page for Brethren Life & Thought:
Monday July 5, 9:00 - 10:00pmThat's TODAY! Are any FWFS bloggers/followers going to that session? I was kind of bummed out that I wasn't able to go to AC this year but then I saw this and really got bummed out! There was an article on Brethren bloggers in Messenger a few months ago that I found to be a bit lacking, so would have loved this kind of session.
Brethren Life & Thought/Bethany Theological Seminary Insight Session
Topic: When Brethren Tweet: Technology, Theology, and Community
Come and hear faculty, staff, and students discuss ways technology inpact the Brethren community and learn ways technology can enhance our witness.
See conference book for more details.
Also, I heard a few things were getting live-streamed/recorded at AC this year. Seems like this one would be a prime candidate.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Brethren & Mennonite attitudes toward the national anthem of the U.S.A.
by Brian Gumm
First, to all those who have been following FWFS and are suddenly wondering who this "Brian Gumm" fellow is, let me do a short introduction. Doing so will not only clue you in to who I am but also help contextualize some of the comments I'll make below on the named topic. I'm a licensed minister in the Church of the Brethren, studying at Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg, Virginia, in the Seminary as well as the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding. I've been following FWFS for about a month now and had recently put it up on the blogroll over at my blog: Restorative Theology. About three weeks ago, Nick mentioned that he wanted some more authors for this here blog and after a nice e-mail conversation I gladly agreed to contribute my voice. Now, with the 4th of July quickly approaching, we move on to the topic at hand...the national anthem! Yay! (Or boo?)
Earlier this year there was a flap in the Mennonite world (in the U.S. at least) when Goshen College decided to start playing the national anthem of the United States at sporting events. This led to all sorts of interesting media coverage, the most humorous (to me) being a blog post entitled: The Mennonites no longer hate America (from which the picture to the right was linked...no idea where that author got it from). There was almost an audible gasp on the campus here at Eastern Mennonite, and people all over the campus were registering, mostly, their discontent in various social arenas both temporal and digital. Facebook groups shot up both in favor of and against the decision, and I could watch as my Mennonite friends on Facebook fell into one of those two lines. The president of EMU even updated his statement on the matter and re-communicated it to the entire university community. This came in advance of EMU hosting a few NCAA Div-II basketball tournament games on campus, wherein the playing of the national anthem is an NCAA requirement. Even in the seminary classroom, in a believers church class this past spring this issue made for some stimulating discussion.
Meanwhile, in my Church of the Brethren circles, something entirely different was going on in respect to the national anthem. In my home district, the Northern Plains, my pastor's daughter has been singing the national anthem at sporting and civic events of all sorts for years now. From here in Virginia, I just got an e-mail from a recent Brethren EMS alum whose wife is competing in a national anthem singing contest, the winner of which would win money for their resident public school district. Quite a marked contrast from these two Christian movements that have historically shared much in common.
I need to offer a few provisos here. First, my personal stake in this is rife with ambivalence. I not only grew up singing the national anthem and not thinking twice to theologically question it, I also sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" in high school all-state choir competitions...and it was my favorite song! Just the other day, I found myself quickly humming harmony to a recording of the anthem I heard while out and about in Harrisonburg. On the other hand, from my two years spent in a Mennonite institution of higher learning reading folks like John Howard Yoder, I've learned to have a healthy dose of theological and political skepticism about these exercises in national allegiance, celebration, and pride, not to mention their state-violence-legitimating undertones (sometimes not so "under").
My next proviso is linked to my being Brethren in a Mennonite institution of higher learning. My experience with Mennonites has been almost entirely academic (and only one school for two years) while my more-extensive Church of the Brethren experience has been almost entirely congregational. And not only congregational but limited to my home district, which represents only a small percentage of the denominational whole! (I vividly remember my schock at National Youth Conference in 1994 when the busses from Pennsylvania pulled up..and pulled up again...and kept pulling up, with a relative sea of youth pouring out of them.)
I'm assuming a mostly 1) Brethren and 2) academic audience here, so if that's safe let me ask the audience: Was the Goshen College thing on the radar? (Nice military analogy, right?) What was your Brethren upbringing like in relation to things like the national anthem?
First, to all those who have been following FWFS and are suddenly wondering who this "Brian Gumm" fellow is, let me do a short introduction. Doing so will not only clue you in to who I am but also help contextualize some of the comments I'll make below on the named topic. I'm a licensed minister in the Church of the Brethren, studying at Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg, Virginia, in the Seminary as well as the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding. I've been following FWFS for about a month now and had recently put it up on the blogroll over at my blog: Restorative Theology. About three weeks ago, Nick mentioned that he wanted some more authors for this here blog and after a nice e-mail conversation I gladly agreed to contribute my voice. Now, with the 4th of July quickly approaching, we move on to the topic at hand...the national anthem! Yay! (Or boo?)
Meanwhile, in my Church of the Brethren circles, something entirely different was going on in respect to the national anthem. In my home district, the Northern Plains, my pastor's daughter has been singing the national anthem at sporting and civic events of all sorts for years now. From here in Virginia, I just got an e-mail from a recent Brethren EMS alum whose wife is competing in a national anthem singing contest, the winner of which would win money for their resident public school district. Quite a marked contrast from these two Christian movements that have historically shared much in common.
I need to offer a few provisos here. First, my personal stake in this is rife with ambivalence. I not only grew up singing the national anthem and not thinking twice to theologically question it, I also sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" in high school all-state choir competitions...and it was my favorite song! Just the other day, I found myself quickly humming harmony to a recording of the anthem I heard while out and about in Harrisonburg. On the other hand, from my two years spent in a Mennonite institution of higher learning reading folks like John Howard Yoder, I've learned to have a healthy dose of theological and political skepticism about these exercises in national allegiance, celebration, and pride, not to mention their state-violence-legitimating undertones (sometimes not so "under").
My next proviso is linked to my being Brethren in a Mennonite institution of higher learning. My experience with Mennonites has been almost entirely academic (and only one school for two years) while my more-extensive Church of the Brethren experience has been almost entirely congregational. And not only congregational but limited to my home district, which represents only a small percentage of the denominational whole! (I vividly remember my schock at National Youth Conference in 1994 when the busses from Pennsylvania pulled up..and pulled up again...and kept pulling up, with a relative sea of youth pouring out of them.)
I'm assuming a mostly 1) Brethren and 2) academic audience here, so if that's safe let me ask the audience: Was the Goshen College thing on the radar? (Nice military analogy, right?) What was your Brethren upbringing like in relation to things like the national anthem?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Book reviews, atonement, and lots of crying
By Nick Miller Kauffman
I just finished reading Proverbs of Ashes for a book review, and I cried a lot. Like, every twelve pages. Not full-on sobbing, but brief, six-second bouts of tears. I suspect this is not an unheard of phenomenon when reading this particular book.
The book, whose full title is Proverbs of Ashes: Violence, Redemptive Suffering, and the Search for what Saves Us, by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker, started as a desire to offer a feminist critique of Christian theories of the atonement. That probably would have been a valuable but boring book. Instead, they found their project transforming into something story-based and essentially autobiographical. The critique is there, but it is incased in heart-wrenching stories of rape, shattered relationships, identity crises, and family secrets.
Where I probably differ from everyone else who cries while reading this book is I didn't cry at the tragedy. I was sad to read that Parker felt cornered into aborting a child whose presence initially evoked joy out of a desire to save her marriage, but I didn't cry. Stories of rape and abuse leave me feeling confused and sickened, but I don't cry.
I didn't cry when Shadow fell into the pit near the end of Homeward Bound. No, I'm the guy who cried when he finally came limping over the horizon, then ran to Peter's embrace. I tear up when the music cuts in during Andrew Shepherd's speech at the end of The American President. I cried, over and over, when Parker and Brock offered or quoted words that were magical in their profundity or astonishing in their healing. Like when Brock, on her way out of the City of a Thousand Buddhas, emptied the jar of dirt that she had claimed years earlier from the front yard of the man who raped her when she was five:
I was intrigued to learn that neither Brock nor Parker--both Christians--participates in communion. It's not hard to understand why, though, as they reject not just specific theories of the atonement, but the atonement itself.
Substitutionary atonement is problematic because it presents a God abusive towards his child and bloodthirsty in his demand for justice:
In the same chapter, Parker launches similar indictments against social gospel, the crucified people of God, moral influence, liberation theology, spiritualist, and crucified God theories of the atonement. I was going to try to summarize them all, but I fear I'll lose everyone's attention and many of them are kind of similar anyway.
Ultimately, the message is that we should not make a horrific act of violence into something good, in any way, because to do so celebrates the violence. Instead we must be free to grieve the death of Jesus as something bad. Brock and Parker also argue that we can never be separated from God's love, and thus there is no need for atonement.
What saves us is truth, defense of the abused, and opposition of injustice. These life-affirming qualities are where promise lies.
I just finished reading Proverbs of Ashes for a book review, and I cried a lot. Like, every twelve pages. Not full-on sobbing, but brief, six-second bouts of tears. I suspect this is not an unheard of phenomenon when reading this particular book.
The book, whose full title is Proverbs of Ashes: Violence, Redemptive Suffering, and the Search for what Saves Us, by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker, started as a desire to offer a feminist critique of Christian theories of the atonement. That probably would have been a valuable but boring book. Instead, they found their project transforming into something story-based and essentially autobiographical. The critique is there, but it is incased in heart-wrenching stories of rape, shattered relationships, identity crises, and family secrets.
Where I probably differ from everyone else who cries while reading this book is I didn't cry at the tragedy. I was sad to read that Parker felt cornered into aborting a child whose presence initially evoked joy out of a desire to save her marriage, but I didn't cry. Stories of rape and abuse leave me feeling confused and sickened, but I don't cry.
I didn't cry when Shadow fell into the pit near the end of Homeward Bound. No, I'm the guy who cried when he finally came limping over the horizon, then ran to Peter's embrace. I tear up when the music cuts in during Andrew Shepherd's speech at the end of The American President. I cried, over and over, when Parker and Brock offered or quoted words that were magical in their profundity or astonishing in their healing. Like when Brock, on her way out of the City of a Thousand Buddhas, emptied the jar of dirt that she had claimed years earlier from the front yard of the man who raped her when she was five:
"The City of Ten Thousand Buddhas could take care of one more hungry ghost. Every day the monks put food in the garden to help all the ghosts bound in misery and pain find their way home. I happily turned the job of taking care of Frank over to them and brushed the dirt off my hands" (Parker, Proverbs of Ashes, 209)."One more hungry ghost" is one of those points at which I cried. Now that you all think I'm strange, on to the theology.
I was intrigued to learn that neither Brock nor Parker--both Christians--participates in communion. It's not hard to understand why, though, as they reject not just specific theories of the atonement, but the atonement itself.
Substitutionary atonement is problematic because it presents a God abusive towards his child and bloodthirsty in his demand for justice:
"The belief that the great Jehovah was offended with his creatures to that degree, that nothing but the death of Christ, or the endless misery of mankind, could appease his anger, is an idea that has done more injury to the Christian religion than the writings of all its opposers, for many centuries. The error has been fatal to the life and spirit of the religion of Christ in our world; all those principles which are to be dreaded by men have been believed to exist in God" (Hosea Ballou, Treatise on the Atonement, qtd. in Parker, Proverbs of Ashes, 30).Further, with its identification of disobedience as the root human sin, the message here can be for victims of abuse to obey their abusers. "A God who punishes disobedience will teach us to obey and endure when it would be holy to protest and righteous to refuse to cooperate" (Parker 21).
In the same chapter, Parker launches similar indictments against social gospel, the crucified people of God, moral influence, liberation theology, spiritualist, and crucified God theories of the atonement. I was going to try to summarize them all, but I fear I'll lose everyone's attention and many of them are kind of similar anyway.
Ultimately, the message is that we should not make a horrific act of violence into something good, in any way, because to do so celebrates the violence. Instead we must be free to grieve the death of Jesus as something bad. Brock and Parker also argue that we can never be separated from God's love, and thus there is no need for atonement.
What saves us is truth, defense of the abused, and opposition of injustice. These life-affirming qualities are where promise lies.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Things I want for this blog
1. Authors! Authors! Authors authors authors authors authors! I'm SURE you--yes, YOU--have something to write. Do it! Not why I started this post, but it had to be included.
2. I want a cool banner. Preferably something involving feetwashing and foursquare. I know there are wonderfully talented photographers/photo-editors out there.
3. I want this site to have its own look. My general lack of talent has left me limited to the default Blogspot themes. If anyone thinks they can spice things up I'll be happy to bring on, say, an "artistic administrator."
2. I want a cool banner. Preferably something involving feetwashing and foursquare. I know there are wonderfully talented photographers/photo-editors out there.
3. I want this site to have its own look. My general lack of talent has left me limited to the default Blogspot themes. If anyone thinks they can spice things up I'll be happy to bring on, say, an "artistic administrator."
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