- How the dark and stormy night gave way to a blue sky full of sunlight–sparkles over the wet grass.
- Deep breaths of clean air and sips of pure water.
- Grace to heal my battle scars as I journey through my faith.
- Sleeping dogs who know when a good cold nose is needed.
- Eyes that see, ears that listen, and a mouth that can shut up long enough to do the first two things.
For those who prefer to read happy, thankful posts(which I think I am the only one reading my blog–this could be most cathartic but I will rant in depth later), this is NOT that post…No, I am not bitching about how bad my life is but the struggles that I am having, musing about intellectual stuff that no one wants to voice out loud…I may cover these in more detail but here they are:
Am I the only one who see the oxymoron in “literally interpretation” of the Bible?
Why is submission taught as the wife is a voiceless, servant to the husband? No, I do not believe in submission as I have no rhetorical agency, no rational thought, or control over my body…I am not a concubine, nun, or reproductive machine.
Why does Christianity appear to favor the masculine gender? Am I to be silent, submissive, and a second class citizen in church? I don’t think so.
Also, I do not believe that God has gender. I believe that God uses gender so that our finite minds can comprehend God’s personhood. We can’t break out of the binary of gender so God presents the Godhead as masculine. With this caveat, I believe Jesus is male. Just because God genders himself male does not mean that my female gender is any less valued or second class.
Why is it that unbelievers/non-Christians are much better Christians than Christians? I have friends outside my Christian bubble who show more care and concern than my so-called Christian friends. They do weird things like return phone calls, emails, etc. Why can’t my so-called Christian friends do this because they are SO busy. I teach 3 college classes, full-time English graduate student, wife, 2 kids, 3 dogs…NO, I have NO clue what busy is but I tried to make time for some of them.
Yes, the bitter diatribe is finished. Perhaps, I shall post a more thankful musing later.
Today, I lit a fire, threw gasoline on it, then tried to put it out with napalm…well, hyperbole has always been a useful linguistic tool. As a college developmental reading instructor, I needed something…okay, ANYTHING, to keep my students attention on the material rather than counting down the milliseconds until our four day weekend. Of course, I, too, was counting down the milliseconds until I could leave on my four day weekend. What began has a simple discussion of societal stressors–situation in Iran, earthquake in Chile, Jihad Jane, gas prices, etc.–turned into an insightful discursive space. With each new issue, I noticed my students levels of discomfort rise. They were moving away from politically correct or what the teacher wants to hear to speaking what they always wanted to say but thought they couldn’t. This was uncharted territory.
I think Jihad Jane was the napalm. She is a white American female who promotes militant terrorism allegedly. When asked to visualize her, each class depicted her as an Arabic woman not a suburban American woman. Her actions did not fit the stereotype terrorist; whoever or whatever that is. Once the shock of her identity sunk into my students’ minds, the flood of violent, sexist comments were spewing from their mouths–she should just die, be tortured, exiled, etc. Her existence defied the stereotype and made them uncomfortable. Rather than discuss what about her was disconcerting, denial and eradication were the best options. Of course, being the instructor, I did attempt to move them in that direction whether I was successful remains to be seen.
Sure, I got the lively class discussion that I wanted, but will it continue? I find that we don’t open up spaces for discourse about stereotypes, race, gender, and religion outside of those who hold the same values. Is it that I fear being judged? Yes. I feel judged no matter what stance I take. I’m Christian feminist…so now my traditional Bible thumping, skirt wearing, friends will judge me as bad Christian… try to show me that I am wrong in how I label myself. Then, I will have feminist friends judge me for believing in a misogynistic text. I don’t fit in, contradict myself, but this is a space in which I can do just that. Judge me if you want.