Human Sexuality: A Primer for Christians

 

I was optimistic about this book. Dr. Boone is a well-known, well-respected presence in the Church of the Nazarene, and I had faith that he would tackle the topic of sexuality in a balanced, researched, and charitable manner. I hoped he would open avenues for conversation and wrestling with the many and varied complexities of sexuality that are deeply personal and deeply formative. I hoped he would challenge the status quo and encourage us toward exploration of what sexuality can look like in a Christian context.

I was disappointed.

Make no mistake, as a left-leaning, queer-ish feminist Nazarene myself, I was under no illusion that this book would be anything radical or new or particularly progressive. I am intimately familiar with the Nazarene mandate to toe the evangelical party line. I’ve long given up on Nazarene leadership being explicitly affirming of any kind of sex besides the straight, married kind. But this was more than trotting out tired and closed-minded clichés about homosexuality (though it was that, too). It constructed a framework of heteronormative sexuality that is ill-informed, one-sided, and, frankly, harmful. It’s the same narrative of white middle-class sexual morality that evangelicals have used for years. And lest I be accused of simply dismissing Dr. Boone as an old-fashioned fuddy-duddy as an unfounded rhetorical device, I’ll point out that he himself opines about the “good old days,” using his personal experience of courting his wife as a righteous foil for the “demise of dating” (51). This wish to go back to the way things used to be is a hallmark of conservatism—one that forgets that the good old days weren’t so good for the majority of people. So while I certainly wasn’t expecting Boone’s work to be a beacon of progressivism, I also wasn’t expecting it to be in line with this brand of backwards conservatism. I was expecting some kind of middle way (something at which the man of “charitable discourse” generally excels) that I could at least work with. That is not what I got.

Additionally, I understand that this book was written “in the language of the pew” (7),  for laypeople and not primarily for academics. However, to assume that therefore it need not be well-researched and have its arguments supported by scholars who have been doing the express work of discussing sexualities in a Christian context is insulting and irresponsible. His main sources are Wheaton graduates psychologist Mark Yarhouse and gay celibacy advocate Wesley Hill. There are no queer—even queer Christian—perspectives considered. In fact, the closest we get to actually hearing a gay person’s story is a narrative that’s entirely centered on the gay person’s straight parents and the difficulty they had with his coming out. Boone thereby completely erases the existence of LGBTQ+ Christians.

Human Sexuality is presented as a book that enters into the conversations about sexualities that are taking place in Church and culture today. But it is tone-deaf and unrepresentative and runs from the multi-faceted reality of Christian sexualities rather than engaging them.


Over the next couple of weeks, I will be posting a chapter-by-chapter critique of Dan Boone’s book. I believe there are many details throughout that deserve more careful consideration and discussion, and I hope to offer questions and comments from a different perspective—one critical of Boone’s position, but still Christian. Wesleyan, even. The book claims to be a “conversation starter,” and I’m hoping to broaden this conversation by offering a diverging viewpoint. I welcome your comments as we critically engage this book.

A Table of Contents for this series can be found HERE.

If you're interested in further reading on this subject, check out the bibliography I've compiled (with the help of my excellent scholar-friend, Brandy Daniels) HERE.

It Spooks: Living in Response to an Unheard Call

My friends made a book, and I got to put some words in it!

From the description: 

It Spooks; Living in response to an unheard call is a book of visual, poetic, and written responses to a paper by John D. Caputo. It is a creative collaboration-including a wide spectrum of contributors from diverse backgrounds and nationalities-which lends itself to the ongoing conversation of radical theology, spectral religion, and (as Caputo himself has described), "our haunting from within".

John D. Caputo writes with pointed insight and a smattering of humor as he dethrones the dry bones of religious academia and deconstructs our Western understanding of God; a god he suggests does not exist, but insists. In one volume Catherine Keller, Brian McLaren, Peter Rollins, Michael Gungor and a host of other (known-and-no-name) academics, artists, writers, photographers, and painters offer a broad perspective of responses to Caputo's contention of a spectral, weak god who has no agent but you (and me) to enact that which is holy. Prepare to try on the "It Spooks" hauntology as you consider the role(s) you play in this world and what it might mean for you to live in response to this unheard call.

My chapter is entitled "Haunted Houses, Spooky Rituals, and Practicing Perhaps," and it's about how participating in the church's liturgies might open us up to the unknown and help us see how the world might be in the Kingdom of God, the year of Jubilee.

Click HERE to purchase on Amazon!

Archive, Anamnesis, & A Real-Beyond-Presence in the Eucharistic Liturgy

The latest issue of Practical Matters journal is live, and I have an article in it!

You can find the article HERE.

Abstract: The purpose and goal of the liturgy and of those participating in it is making space. Space for welcome, for hospitality, for movement, for freedom, for lament, for exultation. Space for absence, certainly; space for presence, perhaps. Without the presence of the people, the presence of elements, expectantly returning to the self-defeating, being-toward-death archive of the liturgy, we cannot experience the Real-beyond-presence we may encounter in Christ there. What I am proposing is that there is a deep interweaving of dependencies at work in the Eucharistic liturgy and the possibility of Real-beyond-presence therein: the text of liturgy, a model of the archive, is necessary as the holding place for forgetting in order to enact the anamnesis—remembrance that requires forgetting. The remembrance requires an absence, an opening, a khora. And it is in this absence, seen in the broken bread and the poured out cup, that we may, perhaps, encounter a Real-beyond-presence.

And definitely check out the Table of Contents--there are a lot of great pieces in this issue related to worship and liturgy. I'm honored to be a part of it.

American Religion and Violence as Sacrament

By now you've certainly watched the video or read the transcript or at least seen a tweet about Sarah Palin saying that if she were in charge, "waterboarding is how [we'd] baptize terrorists."

Almost immediately there was an outcry about the statement's sacrilegious nature, the disregard for sacred liturgy, and the general blasphemy of equating the holy sacrament with torture.

But, like, isn't she exactly right?

Isn't initiation through violence into the American Religion of submission to capitalism and oppressive power structures exactly the colonial MO we expect of the United States?

The unwilling catechumens are forced into the waters of death only to be raised into a new life of state-sanctioned violence funded by greed and white supremacy and "Christian" triumphalism in which they may ultimately be exploited and discarded as examples, as collateral martyr-foils.

The horror of Palin's metaphor serves to reveal the horror of the reality.

In the American Religion, violence is a sacrament.

And as long as we are worshiping Caesar, we are administering it.

Church and Sacraments and Being Christian as Fuck

I just got a flyer in the mail from a new church in town (as if Nashville needs any more churches), and it seemed like your garden variety nondenom emergent outfit, but what caught my eye, and actually made me grab the flyer out of the trashcan after I’d tossed it, was that it was called Sacrament Church. And yet, something that surely will not surprise you if you’ve spent any time at all in or around so-called “progressive” “post-evangelical” circles, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly sacramental about it. Nothing particularly sacred. Nothing particularly Christian. No mention of actual sacraments. No mention of scripture. No mention of God.

Now don’t get me wrong, a crusader for orthodoxy I am not. I’m not really interested in an ontological Higher Being; I’m not about to die on the hill of biblical inerrancy or primacy; but if you’ve known me for longer than five minutes, you know I have a thing for the sacraments—especially eucharist, secondarily baptism, and well, the rest I could take or leave. Except marriage. I definitely just want to leave that one.

Anyway, the thing about the sacraments is that they are inherently and irrevocably Christian. The Church catholic establishes and practices them in various manifestations, but we all partake and participate in them together, and that is what makes us Christ’s body—what makes us Christians.

Do I think everyone needs to be a Christian? No.

Do I think Christianity is the best religion? No.

But I’m a Christian. And it’s my religion. And the way I know that and the way I practice that is through the sacraments.

I don’t go to church to feel good or to get in touch with my “spirituality” or to practice being nice to people or to have my intellect stretched. I go to receive the sacraments, to be reminded of my identity and my place in this weird, wonky, messed up Church.

If I wanted any of this milquetoast, commercialized self-help, I’d go somewhere else. So if you’re going to call yourself “Sacrament Church,” you’d better be Christian as fuck.

The Cardboard Cathedral & the Absurdity of Temporal Aesthetics

“Cathedrals usually stand as enduring monuments to human skill and inventiveness, and magnificent pointers to the presence of God among us,” says the website of ChristChurch Cathedral in Christchurch NZ, but this cathedral is “slightly different.” It’s made of cardboard.

CC photo from Geof Wilson

CC photo from Geof Wilson

After a magnitude 6.3 earthquake left the original cathedral badly damaged, Japanese architect Shigeru Ban was commissioned to design a temporary structure for worship. Ban is known for his construction of shelters for refugees of natural disasters in Japan, Rwanda, Haiti, and other countries, using cardboard, paper tubes and shipping containers.

But what’s striking to me is that Ban is not just a humanitarian or an architect, but truly an artist. His pieces—structures, buildings—are beautiful.

And I mean, of course an architect wants his work to be beautiful. But Ban’s work is not typical architecture. His pieces are not “enduring monuments.” They’re temporary. Putting such work and such care into the aesthetics of something made of trash, which will ultimately become trash again, is the kind of faithful absurdity the Kierkegaard in me can really appreciate. It reminds me of graffiti artists putting their work on the side of a train—they’ll probably never see their work again, but the beauty is in its loss.

I think this absurdity of temporal aesthetics (sidebar: is any beauty actually enduring?) is compounded by the fact that this structure is a place of worship. “A Cardboard Fortress is our God” certainly wouldn’t get the same airtime as the original hymn. But I suppose that’s why this is so fascinating to me of the “weak theology” bent. Why shouldn’t we practice faith in the absurd, the fleeting, the may-as-well-not-be? And why should that be any less than beautiful?

 

CC photo from Forgemind ArchiMedia

CC photo from Forgemind ArchiMedia

Click here for more photos of the Cardboard Cathedral, and here for the cathedral's Wikipedia page.

Twitter for Academics: Scholarly Communication

My involvement in the academic community on Twitter--particularly that of biblical and religious scholars--has positioned me in a unique vantage point, where I see the way academics interact and share information and research and identify that Twitter is actually making a difference in the way scholarship is being enacted in this digital age.

Presentation

Here is a short presentation on how Twitter is being used by scholars, and the ways it's changing what scholarly communication looks like.

References and further reading

Costas, R., Zahedi, Z., & Wouters, P. (2014). Do altmetrics correlate with citations? Extensive  comparison of altmetric indicators with citations from a multidisciplinary perspective.  arXiv:1401.4321 [cs]. Retrieved from http://arxiv.org/abs/1401.4321

Darling E.S., Shiffman D., Côté I.M., Drew J.A. (2013) The role of Twitter in the life cycle of a scientific publication. PeerJ PrePrints 1:e16v1 Retrieved from http://dx.doi.org/10.7287/peerj.preprints.16v1

Darling, E. (2013). It’s time for scientists to tweet. The Conversation. Retrieved from  http://theconversation.com/its-time-for-scientists-to-tweet-14658

Galloway, L.M., Pease, J.L., and Rauh, A.E.  (2013). Introduction to Altmetrics for Science, Technology,  Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) Librarians. Science  & Technology Libraries 32 (4): 335–45. Retrieved from http://works.bepress.com/anne_rauh/27/

McIntyre, G. (2013). Altmetric: Capturing and Measuring Impact in the Social Media Space. ACS WA Conference 2013, 12th November, 2013, Empyrean Function Centre, Perth, Western Australia. Retrieved from http://ro.ecu.edu.au/ecupres/3/

Perez-Riverol, Y (2014). In the ERA of science communication, Why you need Twitter, Professional Blog and ImpactStory? BioCode’s Notes. Retrieved from http://computationalproteomic.blogspot.ca/2014/02/in-era-of-science-communication-why-you.html

Priem, J. and Costello, K. L. (2010). How and why scholars cite on Twitter. Proc. Am. Soc. Info. Sci. Tech., 47: 1–4.

Sud, P., & Thelwall, M. (2014). Evaluating altmetrics. Scientometrics 98(2), 1131‐1143.

Young, J (2009). 10 high fliers on Twitter. The Chronicle of Higher Education. Retrieved from http://chronicle.com/article/10-High-Fliers-on-Twitter/16488/