Reflection

Listening to Wisdom of the Silent Tomb

Today is Holy Saturday, I generally try to let the silence of this day settle in.  We wait on this day.  It is the last day of the Lenten fast.  Any who have been fasting are probably weary of it by now.  We have come to the end.

There is  a deathly silence to this day.  Silence and listening are more than not using words.

Today, many people are running about their business with no attention to Jesus Christ in the tomb.   Many Christian traditions do nothing with this day.

The second reading for Vigils in the Benedictine prayer is an ancient sermon by an anonymous preacher (well we apparently don’t know who preached it.) This preacher reminds us that the day Jesus was in the tomb is the sabbath.  Death has many meanings, it also means rest.  The body of Jesus of Nazareth rests in the grave on the Sabbath.

Silence can also be restful. Grief, loss, death, rest, silence.  Are we listening?

A friend points out how we often struggle to keep these three days together, this  the boundary between Lent and Easter.  Easter can overwhelm us into a search for certainty.

Easter is about triumph, and we can forget the means of that triumph. “By Death Christ beat down Death.” The way of the Cross is the path of Resurrection.

So thanks to the Anglobaptist.  On this Holy Saturday I’m wondering if  the ways in which we seek justice and righteousness and the conflicts surrounding that search are so rancorous among and between us Christians because of our forgetfulness, that is a misunderstanding,  of Resurrection.

We think Resurrection is about certainties or we think it’s about metaphor and principles.  We forget that our sense of certainty and rectitude isn’t the point.

Even after the Resurrection the silence of the tomb speaks to us.  It should in the least remind us that, whatever our positions, whatever our beliefs about justice and righteousness, God come in human form, and who then dies is simply unsettling.  Resurrection doesn’t settle anything, but it unsettles everything.  The wisdom to know what to do after the displacement of Resurrection, comes from a bowl towel and feet, and the silence of the tomb.

Holy Week, Grief and the Unexpected

As has become our custom at Reconciler, I didn’t preach.  We let the liturgy, the scriptures, sung and read, the hymns preach.  We walk a lot in our Palm Sunday service: We the Palm procession, we also process around to different stations for the reading of the Passion Gospel, we process up to gather around the altar, and we then process to the baptismal font for dismissal.  It’s a beautiful service.

The triumphal entry and palm procession didn’t move me this year, or rather it rang hollow.  The griefs of the passion story was more palpable for me this year.  This time around the knowledge that the crowds shouting “Hosanna” would soon melt away muted  the celebration at the beginning of the service.  Grief, loss and the unexpectedness of the liturgy and the Gospel were prominent in my consciousness as I presided in the liturgy.

This is not surprising given that  2013 was a year of loss and grief.  Very little went as I had thought and my father  passed at the end of 2013.  Little of what I’m facing now did I expect to be facing when I last celebrated Palm Sunday and entered Holy Week last year.  A year ago we we’re wondering whether or not my dad’s recovery from a major stroke would be a slow or quick recovery.  Nothing indicated that in 7 months he would die.  I also didn’t expect that the community would be down to four people in a temporary space big enough only for the four members curtailing much of the activity of the community (I’ve written about our “winter” here and here).  The events that are remembered and rehearsed in Holy Week, weren’t anticipated by the disciples and full of distress, loss, grief, and confusion.

Even the hopeful reality of Easter and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, wasn’t what the Apostles and disciples of Jesus expected.  The whole of what we celebrate and enter into in the liturgies of this week are tinged with loss, grief.  Even the Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth means a certain loss: Loss of what the Apostles thought was about to come in the life and ministry of Jesus.

We may fail to see the complexity of the story and the liturgies.  We know the story, the path of the liturgy is well worn.  But life happens, and we find ourselves in unexpected places with griefs and losses that we didn’t have the last time we walked this way of Holy Week, of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday.  If we pay attention we can find these liturgies, these scriptures not only speaking to our situation, but showing us something we hadn’t seen or experienced before.

We  come again and again over our lifetime to these Holy Days, both to interpret our lives, but also because there is always more to learn and experience in these liturgies and these Scripture texts.

Whatever the intervening year has brought you, I encourage to attend to it and how the liturgies and Scriptures are experienced differently because  you are in a different place.  Come to these familiar rites and texts with anticipation.  There is more than you expect in them, there is a deep reality and resource in them.  Encounter them in the difference that life has brought you since you were last here.

Further reflections on fasting and Lent

As I mentioned in this previous post, I’m a novice when it comes to fasting.  Other spiritual practices I’m much more adept at and find much more congenial.  Since this Lenten fast has been one I’m practicing with the church communities I lead The Oratory of Jesus Christ, Reconciler and the Community of the Holy Trinity  fasting has come up in conversation this Lent.

One common thought I’ve run across in these various conversations is that  the point of fasting is endurance.  Fasting is a contest of ones will, and certainly it is that in part.  One could read certain passages of scripture and the desert fathers that do compare asceticism to a type of athleticism, I’d still argue that the point isn’t the endurance.  More to the point endurance is only part of what ascetic practices are about.

Specifically fasting is about awareness that allows us to strengthen or reorient our relationships.  This isn’t obvious.  I’ve discovered that in fasting I become aware of all sorts of things, some of them trivial, some of them significant.  Having good relationships, with our loved ones, with God, with our bodies and what we eat takes awareness.  In our daily life, our ordinary day in and day out habits can deaden us to certain aspects of our lives and relationships.

Now to gain an awareness of the connections and our good and sinful relationships to things and other, one has to endure.  But if one’s focus is upon enduring the hunger, or the abstinence from certain foods, one misses the opportunity to examine what other hungers and desires are also stirred up in one’s self.  Fasting allows us as I said in that other post at the beginning of Lent, to examine our desires.  This is why fasting should be accompanied with prayer and meditation.

But there is even a more.  Since Lent is a penitential season we can see this asceticism as merely the rooting out of sin or evil.  But again if this is our focus we will be frustrated, and only partly effective. What fasting allows is for us to be aware of what good we desire.  The problem isn’t with desire or hunger but that we sometimes desire or hunger for what is ultimately undesirable.

Here, the current secular practice of a vegetable juice fast brings home this spiritual reality.  Part of the point of the juice fast is not only to detoxify (root out sin by analogy) but also to reset what one desires in food, so that one’s hunger actually will satisfy what your body needs.(by analogy fasting can teach us to desire the Good, and find that we truly desire God.)

I’ve said the above is an analogy.  Yet, I’d suggest that spiritual and bodily processes aren’t so separate.  What happens in our body when we fast is also happening to us spiritually, in our souls.  We fast and take up ascetic bodily disciplines not because our souls and bodies are who we are.  At times we need recalibration.  Our hungers and desires are a mismatch of good, mediocre, and evil.  Lent becomes a time to realign ourselves and our relationships to food, to things and to each other.  A basic and primordial way to do this is in our relationship to food, and so we fast.  With prayer and meditation such fasting during Lent can truly lead us to a joyful seasons of Easter where we can find our true desires restored, and find that we simply don’t have the appetite for the mediocre and evil.

Why Fast?

Lent is a time of fasting.  The patterns of fasting for most Christians in the united States today aren’t about complete abstinence from food, at least not in Lent.  Thus, “giving something up for Lent.”

I confess that I’m not good at fasting.  The spiritual disciplines I gravitate towards are meditation, solitude, Lectio Divina (alone and in groups), and retreats.  Some of these practices are suited and come easy for an introvert, for instance solitude, and spiritual retreats.  Fasting is just difficult, especially a complete fast from any food. I don’t feel I fast well.  I often just am aware of what I’m not eating. It’s difficult to get to the spiritual benefit of fasting.

Fasting might be that for most people.  This is probably why we seek to fast by refraining from only certain foods or even apply this to refraining from certain activities in Lent.  One can quibble with me about whether giving things up for Lent should be properly understood as fasting, but I would still argue the practice is rooted in seeing Lent as a time for fasting.

But why fast at all?  What are we doing when we abstain from some or all foods or certain activities for a period of time?  

Part of the reason we fast is that orthodox and catholic Christian spirituality is an embodied spirituality.  We fast because we are embodied and our bodies matter for our spirituality.

But one may wonder at this: How is it that refraining from food something we need as bodies, an affirmation of our being bodies?  This touches upon this sermon on desire and temptation.  We can have un-reflective or possibly unhelpful relationship towards what we need to live.  Jesus responds to the temptation to turn rocks into bread with “People don’t live by bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matt. 4:4b TNIV)  This isn’t a denial of the need for food, but an affirmation of where our sustenance and life truly comes from, God.  Fasting through limiting or abstaining from food altogether is a way to affirm a trust in God, who is the source of all life.

The spiritual discipline of fasting has analogous end to what someone is seeking to do in a vegetable juice fast.  In a vegetable juice fast you are seeking to reboot your body and it’s desire for certain foods and to clean out one’s system.  The idea is that, especially in our context of highly processed foods and high dependence on animal products, dairy, and meat for our sustenance, our desire for certain foods is out of whack and that especially due to processed foods we need to detox ourselves.  For some this is the first step towards a vegan diet for others a means to re-calibrate and detox.  In both cases it is to reorient ones desires towards a more healthy pattern of eating and retrain your body to desire truly health giving foods.  This happens both physically and spiritually when we orient a fast towards our relationship with God.

This can also be the spiritual result of fasting.  Through fasting we become aware of our desires, possibly how they may be misguided, and we can through this bodily discipline let God reorient our desires, taking our hunger or our cravings for certain foods as an opportunity to examine what we desire and why before God.  

Personally, I also find that my compassion for those who may have little to eat around the world and in our midst can increase in  fasting.  When fasting I find myself being keenly aware of all the restaurants and convenience stores, and snack shops that are all around. Things, I often pass by without notice.  Fasting then can lead to a compassionate engagement with food, abundance, and hunger.  Through fasting we can allow our chosen hunger to orient our awareness of hunger in the world.

I know of some who fast who will take the money they did not spend on a particular meal, or on food they would have otherwise purchased and donate the money to a food pantry in their area or to an organization working on addressing hunger and starvation around the world. 

These are just some beginning thoughts on why we fast.  Thoughts from one who is a novice at fasting.

What are your experiences with fasting? Why do you fast?  How have you met God in fasting?  is fasting a spiritual discipline you are drawn towards?

Seeing the lie behind a truth: Sermon for First Sunday in Lent

Sermon preached for the Oratory of Jesus Christ, Reconciler.  I don’t always post my sermons here but this sermon has a tone and subject matter that fits well within the Cure of Souls thread.  Our approach to Lent at the Oratory is a form of  group spiritual direction around different aspects of Lent and spiritual disciplines.  This Lent we are fasting together.  

Was the serpent correct?  Today we read the account of the Fall and Temptation of Christ. We hear of the first and last temptation of humanity.  During Lent we confront sin and its consequences.

What are we to make of the words of the Serpent and this story of the fall? Is it fair of God to put in front of us this fruit we couldn’t eat, and did death truly result from it?  In one sense, the serpents mocking of the consequence of eating the the fruit was correct, Adam and Eve didn’t drop dead on the spot, but as Paul says it brought condemnation and dominion of death.  We see this immediately, Adam and Eve who were open and free with each other suddenly experience separation and shame and they hide from each other and from God.  No longer are they free and completely open, naked with each other.  They experienced separation; death ultimately is a separation that can’t be bridged.    Don’t we know this separation, from ourselves, from our loved ones, from our friends, and most obviously from our enemies?  We may have moments of connection, and yet there is always already separation; a painful awareness that we could be left alone.  We have the painful awareness that making and keeping the connection with others is tenuous, this is part of the dominion of death. We might say that one act set in motion a world torn apart, where relationships are tenuous, even the best ones still come to an end.  The serpent spoke a half truth.

We humans have this tendency to believe the half-truth, which is really to believe the lie that is contained in the other half of the half-truth.   In both the temptation in the garden and Jesus’ temptation in the desert, we see what we are up against and what we (I think) can recognize in our own souls:  temptation often comes as half-truth that appeals to a good desire, but asks us to trust only the desire, rather than trust the whole truth about the world, others, and God.

The tempter comes and says, “ Look, you won’t drop dead!  You can look and see that this fruit is not poisonous. You can see and smell that it is good to eat.”  All true but covered over in these true words is the lie that God doesn’t really care for you, God is keeping this from you for no good reason.  This is the slipperiness of temptation and the winding path we follow into Sin.

We don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t grabbed at the knowledge of good and evil.  We arent’ told what was ultimately intended by this one fruit. Did God intended us to have the knowledge of God and evil?  What we are told is that we grabbed it.  And what we do know is that our knowledge of good and evil didn’t give us the power to only do the good and avoid the evil, rather it has given us the propensity for both, and in such away that our doing good never really overcomes the evil. Many faithful have said that at some point this knowledge would have been given to us, but because we took it, because we sought it separated from God and God’s caring love for us, it could only distort our true humanity.  Now that we have it we can’t deliver ourselves from evil and the consequences of that first mistrust of God, that first failure of faith.

The good news is that all our sin, our separation our pain and suffering all the evil  in the world is just the beginning of the story, not the end.  When we sin, when we see oppression and violence in the world, we are simply playing out that scene in the Garden with Eve and Adam and the Serpent, but God tells another story .   God rewrites the story and changes the ending.  This rewrite is that one comes, a human, and meets the serpent again. This human being is so united with God that trust in God isn’t shaken by the half-truths the serpent speaks; the tempter, Devil using the Scriptures the Word of God against God in human flesh.  So, this time humanity is ready, In Jesus of Nazareth, the incarnate Son, sees through the half-truth to the lie, and trusts that God truly fulfills our good desires.  Jesus of Nazareth, hungry and tested doesn’t need to grasp after the good things because God never intends to keep from us any good thing.  In fact all good is from God.  Your desire is from God, even that desire which might be unfulfilled at any particular moment, or even for one’s whole life.

Here we are, on the edge of the desert and the garden, intentionally entering a period of fasting and yes temptation, called into the desert with Jesus.  You will hear the tempter, the serpent; you will encounter your demons.  Be not afraid, know your desires are good, know that God will truly fulfill them.  However, hold your desires lightly.  Accept that not all desire can or should be fulfilled immediately or at all times. We fast to remind ourselves that our desire for food and other things while good should not devour and control us.  Desire is good, but if we accept the lie in the truth of the goodness of desire and believe that a good desire must be satiated now we fall into sin: we become separated from the one who will fulfill the desires of our hearts, the one who is what our hearts ultimately desire.

So, contemplate this Lent these two temptations, one which lead to our fall, the other which lead to our victory.  Let Christ’s faithfulness be your faithfulness.  Remember this Lent that you are Christ, you are the beloved, and in baptism you have the Spirit and have taken on Christ.  Trust in this and see the Tempter flee from you.  Even so, don’t be disheartened by a failure, for even in failure you are still Christ’s.  Repent, get up and accept God’s grace and forgiveness, assured that you are being transformed into this new humanity, which saw through the half-truth to the lie through faith and trust.

God loves you, your desires are good but they don’t need to be fulfilled: before temptation trust this truth. And to paraphrase St Augustine: as we begin this Lent and fast together, Love this one who is the desire of your soul, and do what you will.  Amen

Gothic Sonic Identity: Revelations from 12 albums meme

Editorial note: In 2012 I wrote a post about “gothic sonic identity”, coming out of  conversation with Tripp Hudgins around his Ph.D. work in Music and Liturgy.  I had intended to write a whole series  of posts along these lines.  They never came about.  Here I might be resurrecting this thread we’ll see if any more comes toying with the idea of  “sonic identity”.  But there’s at least one more in this series- Priestly Goth.

Tripp recently tagged me in a Facebook meme asking to list the 12 albums that were significant for you and have remained with you through the years.  Not surprising Tripp’s list to my eyes was fairly eclectic and included some albums that indicated he has some goth sensibilities.  Others I noticed also had want seemed to me to be somewhat diverse list of albums and artists.  I on the other hand mostly ended up listing albums and artist that are more or less punk or goth.  The two exceptions were Petra and U2.

This surprised me.   In high school I listened mostly to Christian Rock , like Petra, Stryper, Steve Taylor, Lifesavers Underground (a goth iteration of the artist Mike Knott), The Choir, etc.   Well I suppose more accurately I should say I owned only albums from Christian Rock acts. I did,  however through radio and friends, listen much more broadly than the albums I owned.    By the end of high school beginning of college I began to purchase “secular” albums, as the CCM language put it.  However I didn’t purchase a “goth” album until Depech Mode”s Violator came out in 1990.  The second such album was Wish by the Cure (a more solidly goth band ).   What fascinates me is that neither of these albums made the list.

The song Judas Kiss. on Petra’s More Power to Ya album, made a little fun of the whole backward masking controversy, because running records backwards will always sound creepy.  In some sense in that album was the deconstruction of the whole CCM scene or at least More Power To Ya gave me permission to love Rock-N-Roll and be a Christian.

However, I already loved Rock.  Around 1979 I was given my own stereo system to have in my room (radio, record player and cassette deck)  On that radio alone in my room between 1979 and 1982 I’d tune into an AM station that I’d at times pick up in the early evenings.  Thanks to that station I heard Punk Rock for the first time.  Though I wasn’t listening to Punk Rock at the appropriate decibels lest my parents would take interest in what I was listening.  On that station I first heard the Dead Kennedy’s and Black Flag, as well as others, but those two punk bands I continued to follow in High school.

I’ve never owned a Dead Kennedys Album, and yet I know all the songs from Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables.  I’m not sure exactly how.  My older half-brother, who lived with us between 1980 and 1982 may have had the album though he was not really Punk he was more hard rock/Heavy Metal fan.

Christian Death and Jesus and Mary Chain made the list, though I haven’t (oddly enough) ever owned their albums.  I account for this oddity because once I identified as goth, the identity was explicitly tied with the dance club, and not necessarily the music I listened to at home.  But I heard  Christian Death and Jesus and Mary chain before ever frequenting a goth club. I recall in college hanging out with friends and friends of friends and listening to these albums.  The first time I heard Christian Death Only Theater of Pain was in the gothed out room of someone I had just met who was a good friend of one  of my good friends.  I was at home, Christian Death spoke to me in ways I still can’t entirely account for.   I don’t have such a firm memory of when I first heard Jesus and Mary Chain, but I know every song on that album.

Lifesavers Underground I remember purchasing just before going to high school winter camp, for reasons I don’t recall I was miserable and wasn’t enjoying the company of my fellow Christians, my only other recollection from that camp was sitting and listening on my Walkman to Shaded Pain.  Listening to that album now, I have no idea why I didn’t make the connection with goth at that time.  While Mike Knott certainly transcends goth in his oeuvre as a musician, LSU and especially shaded pain to my mind are quintessentially goth/dark-wave

These anecdotes point out that what I discovered in the 12 albums meme:  that my goth/punk sonic identity runs deep, and that even at times when my tastes were supposed to be directed in other ways, I was drawn first to punk and then what would become known as goth.  From early on I’ve been at home in the sounds of punk and goth, they have deep resonance and albums I’ve never owned have continued to carry deep meaning and significance for me.

 

 

Suffering and Joy on the Dance Floor: or Dancing to Joy Division

My friend Tripp recently published a brief musing on suffering and death: it’s kind of goth. I’ve sat with the musing.  Part of what he’s wrestling with are the ways many Christians often make suffering trite by attempting to make God responsible for it ( in some way) or at least responsible for making it meaningful.  What stuck with me and what trips me up, is his having said God suffer’s and dies everyday.  I get it, but I can’t help but think this says too much, and is also a means to bring God too close, too understandable.

This was in the back of my mind as I headed out to the goth night Nocturna at the Metro, this past Saturday.  Shortly after arriving Scary Lady Sarah spun Joy Division‘s Love Will Tear us Apart.

It’s a great song, I love to dance to it.  As I was dancing to this haunting,melancholic, tortured song I was aware of the contrast between the  joy I was feeling as I danced and the pain of a failing relationship sung about in the song.  As I danced I also recalled the circumstances of Ian Curtis’ death and his own physical and mental health struggles and suffering.

Such an amazing song.  Such beauty that touches so many.  Love Will Tear Us Apart invariably fills the dance floor.

I feel there is something here.  I have great wonderment at how such beauty, joy ( even hope), come out of  expressions of pain and suffering.

As I danced I thought and prayed (for Ian Curtis, for others wrestling with their demons like he did, perhaps dancing next to me), and I observed in amazement how my awareness of  the pain of a failing relationship sung about in the song, didn’t diminish the joy in dancing to a haunting pain filled song of longing for something more.

Love Will Tear us Apart is larger than the pain of a failing relationship, Joy division and Ian Curtis’s songs inhabit a world that encompasses but is larger than Ian’s tragic story.  Even so without the pain, without Ian Curtis and his pain and suffering there wouldn’t be the music of Joy Division, nor the joy found in dancing to it, as we connect with a longing for something beyond pain and suffering.

“God suffers and dies. everyday”.

Ian Curtis’s suffering and troubled mental life wasn’t for the purpose of  my enjoyment in dancing to one of his songs more than 30 years after his death.  Even so, out of who he was and the circumstances of his life and mental state he created some amazing music, in which there is great longing and joy.  There wasn’t purpose to his suffering, but for a time at least he reached beyond pain and suffering and wove that pain into great music.  What I find in Joy Divisions songs and lyrics is longing and beauty in the midst of pain, frustration, and depression.

Things to contemplate, something contemplated in the movement of bodies on a dance floor some 30 years after the song was recorded.

“God does not give us suffering. God does not give us death.

God suffers and dies. Every day. “


Salonathon at the Beauty Bar: A surface and everyday beauty?

Monday night a friend who is an actor was performing as David Bowie at Salonathon at the Beauty Bar.

If you aren’t aware the Beauty Bar is a bar and beauty salon rolled into one ( or as their website says “The World’s only beauty saloon…”.  Specials include such things as a martini and manicure.

Salonathon is a performance art night for armature, emerging and genre bending artists.   Its a bit of hipster place, and Kate and I were goths among hipsters.  We were there also as theater people supporting our friend.

I’m not sure what I expected, or rather I had dread and hope.  I dreaded that, with the exception of our friends performance, the acts would be horrible.  I hoped for some brilliance something that would grab me and make we say wow.  Neither the dread nor the hope happened.

It was an enjoyable and entertaining evening.  Our friends Bowie was spot on, though I have to admit I’m not sure the point of the performance.

This was my overall sense of the evening.  I’m not sure the point beyond being entertained.  This is an odd (though not entirely foreign understanding of artistic expression) attitude toward art, that it is primarily for entertainment.  I had hoped to be transported elsewhere, to be, at least once, confronted and blinded by something incredibly beautiful.  Instead what I found was the beauty of the every day.  The beauty of a skill well performed.

Nothing wrong with that at all.  I’m more musing on my own longing and striving.   I look for art that transforms and transfigures, that disturbs the world, not simply art that reflects, re-presents and mirrors what i already experience.  When I experience and encounter art I want to be different because of the performance, the concert, or encounter with the sculpture or painting.  Certainly I may also be entertainment and find  connection with what i already know and experience.  However, i want art to be different, or more to the point to make a difference.  I’m looking for transcendence that makes a difference in me and the world.

So I enjoyed myself at Salonathon, and I’m glad it exists.  But Monday night made no difference for me.  Salonathon is just one of many entertaining and aesthetically pleasing things I may engage in any give week or month here in Chicago.  I thus find that I’m indifferent to the event.

I find this indifference troubling, so perhaps, there’s something there.  I might change my expectations, but other than a puzzling experience nothing about Salonathon challenges my expectations.  They simply are reinforced in an oblique way.

Lastly I should mention Salonathon is also had a dance party dimension to it, and the DJ was quite good, and the music he spinned was quite good, though none of it exactly my cup of Tea (little if anything approaching my goth aesthetic).  We didn’t stay for the Dance party portion of the event, it being Monday night and staying up to 2 am wasn’t going to happen!  So, perhaps the transcendence is woven into the ecstasy of the dance party for the regulars.

Perhaps that’s it, Salonathon is just a party for artists.

Privilege, Whiteness, Alienation, Renunciation, and Gospel

At the third session of the Symposium for the Theological Interpretation of Scripture: Urban Ministry, I responded to a presentation on Raymon and Henry Emerson Fosdick’s relationship to Rockerfeller, I spoke of renunciation (of privilege and whiteness) and  voluntary poverty (drawing on the Monastic Tradition) as an answer to the problem presented.  I spoke deliberately but also knew the potential for misunderstanding (I also knew I was using provocative language that could be misunderstood in a particular way).

The responses of the presenter and respondent in this session were challenging and i feel showed a misunderstanding that I partially expected to elicit .  The presenter (Amy Hall of Duke) responded by talking about white male self-flagellation, and the problem of a theology of suffering that must create or invent suffering for the privileged individual when there is little or no suffering.  She saw this as a harmful self-denial, and an unwillingness to face oneself.  And I agree.  But renunciation and voluntary poverty in my mind aren’t such things.  Renunciation and holy poverty are about clearing the spiritual landscape of  barriers to one’s authentic self.  Reggie L. Williams response honed in on my suggestion of renunciation of Whiteness.  If I understood him correctly the claim was that one could only renonce a choice one makes not properties given to one by an overarching system.  I found this a strange claim.  As i see it, renunciation concerns precisely those things that are dictated to one by an hegemonic and demonic system, that demands my allegiance as a mere fact of life.  If I’m turning my back on something that has to do with my own choices, I’d use the term repentance.  It’s true I can’t repent for being white only for what i do or have done as a white person, and I can personally repent from the sins of a racist system of which I share in as privileged by that system.

I’m not married to this idea of renunciation of privilege and whiteness per se.  But what I was trying to get at was that monasticism and stories of early monastics like St. Anthony, were often stories of privileged Christians turning away and giving up their privilege and power (wealth that in the ancient world was used also for the civic good) to become powerless in the terms of that privilege, power, wealth and  status given by the system.  I’d argue that St Anthony and many early monastics from privileged and wealthy families were, through choosing voluntary poverty and the ascetic life, renouncing the sort of influence that the Fosdick’s had through their whiteness and  maleness and ties to  wealth and privilege of  the Rockefellers.  Sure there is suffering in these stories and we could see them as self-inflicted, but the point was something larger:  freedom before and  in relationship to God, which leads to being able to be authentically for others.

Bonhoeffer was also briefly referenced, and I’m alluding to him above.  Such allusion is appropriate Bonhoeffer is a footnote to this story of Riverside Fosdick, Rockefeller, and Harlem. I mention this since Bonhoeffer is in the back of my thoughts around this, and was, at least in my mind, a footnote to our discussion.

I do understand the objection though.  And I do question the path I have chosen.  There are dangers to what I have said, and there are difficulties if this were taken systematically or as some form of one size fits all prescription.  What I’m talking about needs to be based in an address, conviction, and call from Christ and the Spirit

However, the responses seem to say that the authentic place of someone with privilege and who is white is the embrace of that privilege and status.  But what if privilege and the category of privilege is alienating?

I at least have experienced it in this way.  As I have attempted to understand the cultural situatedness of my attitudes and upbringing what i have found is that being white erases all particularities and histories.  the systemic structures of privilege and race and class both give me a privileged status but at the cost of particularity.  In part it seems to me that whites tend to assume others have ethnic foods or accents, or culturally bound theologies and not themselves not only because “white” is normative but because white like the other categories of a racist structure,  masks or erases difference and particularity of those within the privileged class.  To be white I must deny that being German or Swedish is anything more than kitsch and food choices at Christmas.  Granted the system does this more destructively and insidiously with the minority or underprivileged groups, but this doesn’t deny that even as a white person, I have a particularity that “white” can’t and isn’t intended to encompass.  In fact I’m to ignore particularity in identifying as white. the privilege I hold as one who is sorted into the category of “white” is dependent upon my not viewing myself as other than other white people.   From my observation of my family and others who are 3  or 4th generation European Americans, it is precisely being white that keeps us from connecting the injustices suffered by our immigrant parents, grandparents and great grandparents with what asian, hispanic and other immigrants suffer today.  White identity by definition it seems to me prevents solidarity with  people sorted into the other categories of this racist system.

This leads me to wonder about the authenticity of whiteness.  Why wouldn’t privileged persons in a system of privilege be called by the Gospel to renounce that privilege for their salvation, that is to encounter before God their true selves.  If the issue is loyalty (As Reggie Williams asserted in his response to Hall), and identity and loyalty are closely tied, it seems to me that identifying as white and seeking to use that identification to change the racist system, is an exercise that may cosmetically change things, but will also re-inscribe the system and its categories on the altered situation.

 I must also admit that while being european or more to the point Swedish and German (which by the way is not free of sins of colonialism etc. so I’m not attempting to escape complicity ) makes sense.  Choosing this identity doesn’t free me from ethnocentrism or even the risk of assuming that my Swedish, or German or European American ways are just the way things are.  So this isn’t an attempt to ignore the possible continuing collusion of a European identity with a white racist system and its injustices.  

The only true identity and the only loyalty that will free me to be my authentic self isn’t any human particularity, but is Christ.  If I renounce and turn aside from any identity for anything other than Christ and Christ’s body, the Church, my action is futile and the height of foolishness.  I thus wonder if Hall’s observation of some white males and their self-flagellation is that they were attempting to be good liberals, or good humans, in their renunciation, rather than seeking to turn to Christ, and the Church.