Eikon AltView: Libby DeLay

**EDITORIAL NOTE: this is the first of 15 blog posts over the next month and a half that are part of a new series called altView. for an intro to the series, you can read in detail here, but in essence, these are stories of faith from the people of our community. no filters. no agendas. no prompts. just people telling their stories. hope you enjoy!**

There are three states of love. In love, out of love, and on the precipice between the two. We all have a preference, and, surprisingly, in love is not always the hands-down winner. It is too messy, too all-consuming, too much. Then again, out of love can be a little lonely, and that teetering precipice, when you’re no longer in love, but not quite out of it, exhaustingly dramatic. Each is risky. —A Strange Nervous Laughter, Bridget McNulty

I have had tons of love/relationship drama in my life. Yes, definitely with guys, but mostly with God. I’ve always been a Christian, but mostly in the same way I’ve always been white—I was born that way.

Through most of my teen angst—while I identified myself as a Christian—I was out of love with God. I was jaded, turned-off by all the hypocrisy and wickedness of the “Christians” around me, and pissed off that, while I intellectually knew God was real and what I believed was true, I wished it wasn’t. I wanted to believe something else.

God was patient with me though, because in October of my senior year, God brought me to that precipice of love, nudging me slowly to the edge. I wish I had jumped then, but I didn’t. I camped out on the precipice for four months—the four most painful months of my life. I broke up with a guy that I didn’t love, but had dated for two and a half years. I fell in love with a guy who didn’t seem to love me back. I ran away from home, almost dropped out of school and was completely betrayed and heartbroken by two of my best friends.

By March, I finally jumped suicidally into love with God, because I had nowhere else to go. Life was too painful. I didn’t care whether I was happy or whether life was fun. I just wanted for any pain that I felt to mean something.

Being in love with God is messy. It’s all-consuming. It feels, sometimes, like too much to handle. It doesn’t fix everything in your life. In fact, March was a horrible month in a lot of ways, filled with more pain than I thought I could deal with. But I also started dating my now-husband in March and I forgave my family and those two friends that summer.

I’ve seen firsthand what a waste it is to spend resources (time, money, energy) on things that don’t honor God. I regret the years I lost, but I’m working now to create a Warm Space for homeless people in Little Rock. I’m working on staying in love with God through loving his people, his earth and those he has put in my life whether they love me or not.

If you’re jaded or angry at God, realize that the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference, and get right with him.

If you’re sitting on the precipice, JUMP! LOVE GOD WITHOUT ABANDON

Libby Delay loves God, her newlywed husband Tad, and serving people here Little Rock. When she isn’t working with the Soar Network to fight homelessness, she likes to watch Desperate Housewives and do yoga.

thoughts on shouting matches at health care debates, black muslim socialists in ties, xenophobic proselytization, and a Church that lost it’s clout

Somehow, I think this post got deleted.  So here it is again:

—-

The politicosphere is buzzing with so much angery passion. A question I haven’t been able to get off my mind as I watch the news, look out the window to see the Tea Party protest down the street, and creep on Facebook status updates is this: why so much anger for Barry Obama? (other than his choice of Bud Light at the Beer Summit- there’s just no excuse for that… were they out of Keystone?)

The questions has been stewing on my mind over the summer, watching the health care reform (or insurance reform, or whatever they call it next week) debate devolve to shouting matches. I can’t remember a time in my life where the political scene had as much angry rhetoric. And there’s no denying that the vitriol is chiefly coming from the right wing (although I completely understand the argument from the right that it is an erosion of [insert: healthcare, liberty, America, etc.] that raises this rhetoric from them). It’s just hard to be the underdog, feeling bullied, feeling like a helpless victim watching an assailant plunder your home. There’s a visceral breakdown of civility that happens in light of that feeling.

A friend of mine and I were discussing the outburst from Senator Joe Wilson the other night, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the question since: Why is there so much anger towards Barack Obama? Earlier that day, I heard both the leftist James Carville and the right-winger Rush Limbaugh strike a seldom-reached agreement, both saying Wilson represents the mainline of the Republican Party right now, rather than the fringe. My buddy commented, and I think I agree, that there is a certain xenophobia, essentially a fear of “otherness,” at work in the hearts of many against the President. I know that for some Americans, it really is an issue of race plain and simple. But I don’t think that that’s the issue for the great majority of Americans at all. Still, xenophobia can come in many forms. Some choose to believe he is not a one of us, not a natural born citizen. Therefore, he is not one of us. A recent poll showed that around a third of Americans still believe that Obama is Muslim, despite his personal testimony in print and repeated word. How many people believe he is a socialist or communist, many of whom cannot seem to articulate a clear definition of what either model is beyond “spreading the wealth”? How many people are starkly against health care reform whom nevertheless have never realized that “universal health care” and “socialized health care” are by no means synonymous terms, nor could they explain which is a quasi-subset of the other?

It’s misinformation, sure, I’ll allow that. Politicians and pundits can be pretty crafty. But there’s more to it than that, because there is misinformation spin coming from Democrats and Republicans. What is it that is driving this anger? I think it’s a fear of “the other,” because (whether based in fact or fantasy) Obama seems very other to many of us.

But the disappointing thing to me, the thing I cannot understand for a moment, is this: why are we Christians leading the charge in xenophobic vitriol? I have a few suspicions why:

1) I suspect for some Christians, this fear of a popular world leader plays into their interpretations of Revelation, presuming that while Obama might not be the anti-Christ they had hoped for, he may be moving us down that road. Regardless of how little Scripture props up this view (and who needs the Bible when you have 12 Left Behind novels?), this view of the end of times has became unbelievably popular in 20^th century Evangelicalism. Poor Obama, he plays right into the picture so many have of an anti-Christ, presumably because he likes to talk before brandishing the sword, and the Europeans like him (which is always bad).

2) I also suspect the anger stems from a type of semi-delusional giddiness we have displayed throughout the ages at the prospects of persecution. We take pride as we latch on to a verse that will tell us we will be seen as outsiders, and then try to be as loud about out oddness as possible. Regardless of any actual persecution, we have this victim complex that many take a personal fortitude in. Though psychologically unhealthy in the long run, it makes for a great defense mechanism in the short run (and an even greater voting mechanism).

3) For some it is simply the old standards. His position on abortion, homosexual civil unions, political party, economic policy, etc. No matter the race, religion, or origin of a politician, a differing position on the hot-button issues tends to make us see the politician as, if not evil himself, then at the very least a pawn of the devil. It is so endlessly tempting to assume a President is not Christian at all (if we ever thought for a moment he was) if he is pro-choice (well, he needs to say he’s pro-life).

4) Peacemaking is a delicate craft, and a largely untried one at that. We have a stark contrast between the ideals of Bush and Obama when it comes to dealing with hateful adversaries. The sword is tempting when you hold 50% of the swords in the world. Peacemaking without the sword is seldom tried by nations, and never by powers. This ideal of talking with enemies makes Obama profoundly strange to those of us Christians who have come to associate ourselves with America and her power. Profoundly strange, but more Christian than much of what we’ve seen in recent memory (like this, or that). Still, my fear is that Obama will give in to being less and less other as his time goes, giving into the call for dominance through the sword, or as one musician put it, putting “a boot up your ass, it’s the American way.” Another singer, whom I have such respect for (mp3 at the bottom of this blog post), contrasted this desire for dominance with the lines, “Peace by way of war is like purity by way of fornication.” While Obama is not the Messiah that Rush likes to call him, I’m willing to give talking a chance, even if it’s with people who would be so easy to give up as crazy, belligerent, America-hating fascists.

5) Lastly for my list, I think we Christians confuse our citizenship, and concordantly where our loyalty lies and who our enemies our. In his Epistle to the Romans, Paul essentially says that if it’s got flesh and blood on it, it’s not your enemy. People, according to the Scriptures, are not our enemy, whether we are talking about Obama, Osama, or just that guy that screwed you over that one time and you still can’t get over it. If we are Christians, I think it’s ok to call yourself an American citizen, sure, but that status takes a way, way, way backseat to our calling to love, live at peace with all men, not speak ill of people, etc. If we have two professing Christians (like you and Obama) and one is speaking all sorts of vitriol against him, then that’s really just immature. Men are not our enemies, and no country, person, or political party is worth the type of loyalty that our sinful side seems so eager to get out.

In case I’m not so clear, while this thought is somewhat a post about Obama, it’s really a post about a really sad thing in pop-American Christianity. We are so prone to anger towards someone, we misplace our loyalties, and we have destructive, victim complexes. So to everyone who thinks of themselves as Pro-Lifers, Pro-Choicers, Democrats or Republicans, pro-/anti-Obama, Capitalist or Socialist or Communist, pro-Gay marraige or pro-Traditional marriage, pro-Constitution, pro-Whatever-other-stances, or simply pro-America… be careful.

You may have a delusion at best, or at worst, an idol.

Derek Webb, My Enemies Are Men Like Me

My Enemies Are Men Like Me

i have come to give you life
and to show you how to live it
i have come to make things right
to heal their ears and show you how to forgive them

because i would rather die
i would rather die
i would rather die
than to take your life

how can i kill the ones i’m supposed to love?
my enemies are men like me
i will protest the sword if it’s not wielded well
my enemies are men like me

peace by way of war is like purity by way of fornication
it’s like telling someone murder is wrong
and then showing them by way of execution

when justice is bought and sold just like weapons of war
the ones who always pay are the poorest of the poor

The gay Christian apologetic (“Gays, Christians, and gay Christians,” Andrew Marin, part 3)

Andrew Marin, Part 1

Andrew Marin, Part 2

This is the post all about the way that gay christians interpret the Bible.  I’m always into learning something I havent’ been exposed to before, so I was really looking forward to this chapter on the gay apologetic.

I think that one of the best things about Andrew Marin’s work, Love Is an Orientation, and something seldom found in discussions on homosexuality and faith, is that you won’t find him taking shots or sounding bitter toward either side.   You find Marin provocative to all sides, but hostile to none.  While his book is replete with sad stories of the failure of the church to love, and also replete with studies, findings, and apologetics which my make light work in rupturing your view, you will have to understand that Marin has a lot of hope for the Evangelical church.  In fact, if I had to guess (and this is only my guess), I suspect that Marin himself still falls in that traditional conservative view on homosexuality, but I get the feeling he’s transcended the well-worn fighting points, and comes across rather likeable.

His chapter on the gay apologetic was one of the most well written affirmations of homosexuality I have ever read (which is made especially poignant when he can lay out the case for the other side with equal clarity- I love that in a writer).  Marin bases much of his understanding of the gay apologetic off the work of Dr. Mel Wright, a former speechwriter for Billy Graham until Wright came out of the closet.  Wright is a gay Christian, whose work has aided in the conversion of thousands, if not millions to Christ.

Scripture is entirely central to both the gay-affirming and gay-condemning sides of the debate.  Those with the traditional Christian view tend to assume that gay-affirming theology ignores Scripture, but we need to get over this immature assumption (i.e. different beliefs= no respect for Scripture) if we are going to have an intelligent conversation.  Undeniably, scripture does address homosexuality in six different verses throughout the Bible.  However, according to Marin, the gay-affirming hermeneutic assumes:

“…the passages in the Bible that condemn same-sex relationships are not referencing long-term, committed monogamous relationships.  Rather, the Bible is talking about inhospitality, heterosexual rape, pagan ritual sex and orgies, and pederasty (men having sex with boys.)  They also believe that translations and interpretations of the Bible are unclear relative to the hermeneutical historical-cultural/transcultural analysis of homosexuality.”

The problems with thinking Scripture is clear on the matter of homosexuality are many, but even the most basic, surface level observations are hard to get around.  Yes, the Law forbade homosexuality, but so did it condemn eating lobster and shaving your beard.  In the New Testament (since we are privy to dismiss the OT when it gets complicated), the word “homosexual” does not exist.  Are we tracking? Because that sentence merits re-reading; no word used in the Greek actually translates directly as “homosexual,” which means you are automatically working with a translator’s slant (or agenda) if you use one of those gay-clobber passages with the word “homosexual,” staking your fight on unsure footing.  One term often translated varyingly as “homosexual” or “homosexual offender” is arsenokoites.  It is a term that Paul seems to have invented, as we have the term on record in no other ancient literature.  This term, as with another oft mistranslated/simplified-as-“homosexual” term likely (not certainly) refers to homosexuality, but a particular type of homosexual act(often suggested is the profession of “call boys” for one term, or the practice of gay pedophilia for the alternate term mistranslated).

The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is a favorite among the traditionalist camp to point to the sin of homosexuality.  However, two big problems with this are that (1) nobody in either camp argues Sodom’s sexual sin was negligible (as depicted in Genesis 19, isn’t gang rape, regardless of orientation, always bad?) and that says nothing of homosexual relationships at large, and (2) the Bible is very clear about why destruction came to Sodom (spoiler alert: it wasn’t because of the gay sex!).  Ezekiel 16: 49-50 reads:

“Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.  They were haughty and did detestable things before me.  Therefore I did away with them as you have seen.”

Now, think about all those pundits and pastors you hear imploring us to turn from sin, especially lettin’ the gays take over, lest America become like Sodom and take the fiery first of a pissed off god.  Well, I would argue that America is remarkably like Sodom already.  No, we haven’t sanctioned gay gang rape, but are we not arrogant, overfed, unconcerned with the poor and needy?  I mean, we are the best county, with our fat kids and *yay!* capitalism and all! The harping on the Sodom story is easily seen by the gay community as yet another example of the traditional Christian community settling for a seemingly willful ignorance of Scripture.  Why not unapologetically dive into the text an deal with context intentionally?

Beyond this, there are many interactions that the gay apologetic points to in Scripture.  Some argue that the passages on Naomi and Ruth, and David and Jonathan, are hinting at something beyond mere friendship.  Particularly interesting to me is Jesus healing of the Roman centurion’s servant.  The Greek word for servant used here, pais, has a significantly different connotation that the generic term for servant, doulos. A pais was a “very special servant,” and in generally refers to homosexual partner/servant common for Roman solders to own.  Jesus never addresses homosexuality in Scripture, but this would have been a perfect place to do so.  Nevertheless, he heals the pais with little explanation which (regardless of his intent) Jesus undoubtedly knew would be interpreted as a blessing of the homosexual union by inquisitors watching the seen play out.  Perhaps Jesus should have given us a bit more evidence speaking to his stance on homosexuality, but you gotta love the way he just transcended the debate, don’t you?  What an example!

My outlining of the gay/lesbian apologetic here is very brief.  It barely scratches the surface of the scholarship done, and there is a wealth of work in circulation for anyone interested in further study.  Beyond books, Marin suggests simply speaking with a gay pastor of gay Christian if you want to learn more.  Just ask what it’s like to be them.  Ask what they believe and how they arrived at some position, and then shut up and listen.  Marin tells of the shock he felt the first time he invited a gay Christian friend to his church.  The gay Christian friend sang the same songs Marin did, raised his hands the same, closed his eyes the same, felt the same depth in the worship experience.  Things like this are hard to swallow when you’ve always assumed “gay” and “Christian” are mutually exclusive terms, but conversation with “the other” always has a beautiful way of breeding new understanding. Whereas pontificating has it’s way of shutting out rational open-mindedness (alternately known as humitily), real conversation converts both of you in some way or another in ways that merely waiting for your chance to argue does not.

That is why pontificating and arguing against the other (and the other, for me and much of the church, has been the GLBT community) has failed, and will continue to fail so miserably.

I finished reading the Qur’an. Now for my thoughts…

I finally finished reading through the Qur’an. It was a pretty trendy thing to read right after 9/11 and the media obsession with Islam. It seemed that every politician and social leader out there claimed to have read the book, although I suspect there may have been a few fibbers in there. I’ve wanted to read it for years, but only began six months ago during my last university semester for a class on that very topic. All that to say, I am not trendy. I’m actually a geek about these things.

And a quick disclaimer: I’m no Islamic scholar, and I understand there are legions of sharp Islamic theologians/apologists who could blow my reading out of the water. Take this for what it’s worth.

Reading the Qur’an, what stands out is that there is a lot of theological carry over into Islam from Judaism and Christianity. Muhammad was an Arabian trader, and came into contact with the Abrahamic monotheists, the “People of the Book.” Concerning them (I mean, me), the Qur’an seems to oscillate between generally saying Christians and Jews can inherit eternal life, but sometimes also going off on hell-fire rants against them. If there is consistency in Muhammad’s view of Christian/Jewish place in heaven, I can’t figure it out. But the best I can tell, if I am sincerely following God in my context, and not blaspheming God or the message, then I get eternal life. Which interestingly, I’m not sure is in heaven…

In classic Judaism, as in early Christianity, heaven was not a (meta/)physical place somewhere else in the way most Christians believe today, looming invisibly on the edge of the cosmos. Heaven, paradise, was a renewed earth. The classic belief seemed to be that God would come here to reign, and that man would be resurrected on earth, rather than floating off to heaven somewhere else. I cannot be sure, but Muhammad’s rhetoric seems consistent with the ancient Jewish/Christian doctrine of resurrection on earth.

The ancient Israelite concept of elohim also finds its way into the Qur’an, which is interesting, given the Qur’an’s proclivity to rant against polytheism. Calling God elohim does not denote polytheism explicitly, but it flirts with it. Elohim is common name for God, second to YHWH in Jewish scripture. Genesis 1 reads: “Bereshit elohim bara…” (In the Beginning, God created…) Only, Jewish words ending in -im are plural. And as el was a ubiquitous term for “god” in ancient Canaan (notice the etymological relation to the god Ba’al), the Israelites adopted the term. In similar fashion, Lah was the common name for “god” in 7^th century Arabia, and was even used by Christians. But God was pictured back then (and all too commonly and reductionistically today) as a King, complete with his royal posse. So, Genesis 1 could just as easily read, “In the beginning, the court of God created…” or, “…the gods created…” It’s not quite polytheistic, but it flirts with the plurality of God commanding not only his strength, but also that of a royal cohort. In similar fashion, Islam adopts this view of a kingly God, and when God speaks, it is a “We” rather than an “I” who commands.

Another similarity is found in how we are judged at the Last Day. In Islam, as with Judasim and Christianity, we are saved by grace, but judged by works (a la Revelation 20). The chief sins that send one to hell are a failure to care for the poor, the orphan, the oppressed. Second to that are sins of impiety or blaspheme. This, in fact, has remarkably similar correlates to Christian theology (James 1 comes to mind), being that the people of God, if they are acting as the people of God, must be good news to the poor and the oppressed. If the three Abrahamic faiths could all just practice together what their texts preach independently, we would have a beautiful thing on our hands.

The thing that struck me most was the constant juxtapositioning of the amiable “In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Mercyful” at the beginning of every chapter with the faithfully ensuing threats of retributive hell-fire. It contrasts starkly with the Bible, in which “hell” is found anywhere from 0 to about 15 times, depending on accuracy (with lower counts being more true to original text). Al’Lah (lit. The God) is portrayed as a sovereign deity, who stays his hand at punishment as he sees fit to grant mercy. So, we deserve hell, but he can show grace. What ended up occurring to me was how similar this view of God has in common with the Christian fundamentalist view of God, being one who consigns all to the hell they deserve, save those he chooses to show mercy and salvation. Live in conformity to God’s will, and you will go to heaven. Step out of God’s will, and Islamic/Christian fundamentalist God will toast you. He seems almost eager, really. I recall youthful debates over whether al’Lah and God were the same person, complete with 20 verses shown with no context. I don’t know if they are the same guy, but if your faith in either tradition is fundamentalist, then… it’s a pretty close call.

I read, in context, many verses that I’d only heard before via the diatribe of radio and TV pundits. Take this common verse from Surah 2: “Slay them wherever you find them. Drive them out of the places from which they drove you.” Never in my life have I heard that verse with the preceding verse used as context: “Fight for the sake of God those that fight against you, but do not attack them first. God does not love aggressors.” It’s the beginning of a just war doctrine! Slay the infidel, but only when he’s baring down on you with the sword. So this verse is ubiquitous in Islam-smearing media, but is it ever pointed out that this is “Just War”? Now, I happen to think Just War doctrines are suicidal short-sighted and immature, but most Christians and Muslim’s take pretty much the same view. Again, we should really just get together all the fundamentalist Muslims and the fundamentalist Christians, who all think they have no option but to kill each other, and let them figure out how much their god-concepts have in common. In addition, this verse should give us pause when fundamentalists Muslims brutally attack us; I’m no apologist for them, but we should consider what men, who are very much aware of this verse, feel we have done first to warrant surprising violence. Ignorance is suicidal.

Muhammad clearly shows familiarity with many Biblical stories, but they alter significantly from Biblical accounts. For instance, the Story of Noah has him heartbroken as he stares out the window of the ark in sorrow for a son who stayed behind on the earth and drowned. At first, I assumed these differences were because Muhammad was working off rough oral accounts rather than copying a Torah scroll. But another thought occurred to me in that the telling of the Qur’anic stories so often puts a different theme on the story, I have to wonder if Muhammad was hearing midrashim. The Jewish tradition of midrash had rabbis intentionally altering stories to explore an issue from a different angle (how’s that for Biblical literalism?) Could it be that Muhammad was in such close contact with the Jews in the trade routes that he was acquiring Jewish theology refined by hundreds of years of midrashim and commentary?

The thing I felt most uncomfortable with in the Qur’an was the explicit denial of the Christ as diety. Second only to Muhammad in reverance and prophetic status, Jesus is nonetheless sharply denied to be god. And I think I can understand why; with Muhammad struggling to differential from a dogmatically polytheistic culture, he needed to remove any possible connection to another god’s existence (and hey, he was pushing it to even include demi-gods like devils and demons, not to mention the aforementioned plural god-term). I’m aware that there is a growing body of Muslim Christians in the world today. Following Isa (Arabic for “Jesus”), they place a renewed reverence for the Christ, whom they already hold in such veneration, but seek to remain in their Muslim contexts. This is a provocative, but very interesting, concept to me (I, mean… Muslim Christians?). But if, as we say, “Jesus didn’t come to start a religion,” then this probably shouldn’t be so surprising. So, I would be very interested to hear how they reconcile Muhammad’s shots against Jesus’ deity with their belief in his place in Trinity. Perhaps it is similar to many messianic Jews, who follow Jesus as the anointed One, but play down his deity to a degree.

I’ve got so much more to say than one can surmise in a blog post. My Qur’an is scribbled with notes and underlinings. It challenged my view of, not only of Islam and Muslims, but God. You can’t really wrestle with a religious text without seeing its similarities and differences to your own understanding, and the experience should challenge you. Hopefully, I’m a bit better student of beliefs as a result. Because, as I said earlier, ignorance is suicidal.