Breaking Down Boxes

In the language of psychologists, they're called heuristics, mental shortcuts that we all use to make sense of the plethora of information thrown at us on a daily basis. Most people will be familiar with what is possibly the most famous of these heuristics: stereotypes. And most will agree that stereotypes are Bad--with a capital "B". Then again, the dictionary defines "stereotype" as "a simplified and standardized conception or image invested with special meaning and held in common by members of a group. " In a speech, or writing, for example, a stereotype can serve as shorthand to evoke a particular memory or emotion, and can be enormously helpful. Professionals use what are essentially stereotypes on a daily basis: the lawyer deciding what sort of case they may accept, the doctor determining what sort of disease their patient most likely has, the police officer deciding whether or not the person they just pulled over for speeding is also transporting drugs.

There is absolutely no question that stereotypes, and other mental shortcuts, can be helpful, particularly when you are overwhelmed by information. As human beings, we like to make sense of things, and if you can apply a cut-and-dried label to a particular person or situation, you are much more likely to know how to deal with it. Of course, this assumes that cut-and-dried labels actually work, and perhaps they do for certain discrete situations, such as when defining or describing a large group. In that situation, generalizations are either necessary or impossible, and so if you have to describe a group (like politicians or lawyers), you're going to end up painting many individuals with the same brush (like corrupt or materialistic). Chances are there is enough truth to those stereotypes that you are going to be right at least some of the time, even if you're also wrong.

Things get tricky when you wander out of the world of description, from which bad (and good) jokes are made, and into the world of prescription (how to live/structure your life). When you base the prescription for a certain action or certain behavior on generalizations, you end up hurting people that you probably intended to help. It is, I'm afraid, a situation I've run into far too many times, especially within the Church.

I don't mean to imply that Christians are particularly bad about this sort of thing, or that they are not (as a body) thoughtful people. I only mean that when Christians stereotype, they are not applying that generalization to one category, but to at least two, and generally those categories are so integral to a person that to say, "You do not fit my stereotype of how X sort of person behaves" is also to say, "You are not a good [X], and also not a good Christian." In short, you are saying that the person is not fulfilling God's expectations for how a [fill in the blank] Christian is to live. For someone whose deepest desire is to follow God and to do His will, this sort of criticism cuts right down to the bone.

Since this is a blog about how faith intersects with feminism, among other things, I'm sure you all see where I'm going with this. One of the most insidious generalizations that Christians can make apply to men and women as discrete groups. I cannot say this strongly enough: while a person's gender affects much, if not most, of what they do and think and say, that person is first and foremost a human being, an individual, and secondarily a man or woman. "Male" and "female" modify human, and not the other way around. We see this in the very beginning, in Genesis, where it says that "male and female God created them." It does not say that God created men, and God created women, as though they are different species, although I'm sure there are plenty of people who would say that it certainly feels that way sometimes.

Why is this even an issue? Because when we define roles for men and women so strictly as to disallow all God-created individuality, we set ourselves up as gods over others. And no, I do not believe that language is too strong. For example, when we run across a woman who clearly has the gift of discernment, who is a talented speaker and preacher, who has the wit and wisdom to lead a congregation, and we say to her, "Your role as shepherd of a flock is an offense to God," we are assuming God's role, and negating God's call on her life. When we say to a man, who is an effective nurturer, who is gifted in raising and rearing children, and who desires to be a nurse, or a stay-at-home father, or other not stereotypically male job, "You are in violation of God's call for all men to work outside the home and provide for his family," we are negating God's call on his life.

I hope that you can begin to see what this sort of response does to a person. It does not simply say, "You are a bad man/woman," but also, "You are a bad Christian, and a bad person." This sort of perspective is disastrous, because it forces people into roles they are ill-equipped to take on, while also demanding that they be something they are not. Moreover, it leaves many ill-equipped to deal with unexpected situations that crop up: a woman suddenly called to lead and care for her family, because she has lost her husband, doing things "a woman is not supposed to do"; a man who is suddenly thrust into a position of a single father, or a caretaker for his disabled wife, doing things that "a man is not supposed to do."

And, because we are a community of believers, and not simply a group of individuals, such a viewpoint also acts to stunt the growth of the body as a whole. If it is true, and the Church is a body, injury to one member is injury to all, and if we do not nurture and develop the gifts of one individual, or a group of individuals, we stunt the body as a whole.

What is really irritating is when our culturally assumed stereotypes become "God-given truth," rather than being seen for the culturally driven myths that they are. For example, the idea that women cannot lead because they are too emotional, and too easily deceived, or the myth of the male libido--that all men want sex all the time and cannot exercise self control. Not only does that do a disservice to women, telling them that they "need" someone to make decisions for them because they certainly cannot make decisions on their own, but also to men, by placing the burden on their shoulders for the actions and decisions of the women in their lives. Telling men that they can't control themselves frees them from personal responsibility in the area of their sexual desires, but it also places a burden on women to avoid inciting men to sexual desire or violence because the men cannot control their responses. And it ostracizes women who have strong sexual desires by making it appear as though they are abnormal.

These are simply two gendered stereotypes often found in within the Church. I could probably write a book on it, and certainly others already have.

Once we do away with these culturally enforced stereotypes we see these myths for what they truly are. All people have blind spots, and some have less discernment than others--men and women. Knowing our weaknesses, we can go to the Church, to the body, for support and guidance, trusting that God and our brothers and sisters will strengthen us. When we realize that sexual desire falls on a continuum, that some are more prone to stumbling in this area than others--male and female, we can encourage personal responsibility, and act without censure to shore up those who may be inclined to fail.

When we break down boxes, when we do away with stereotypes within the Christian context, we can begin to see individuals as God created them to be: complicated, interesting, no one the same as the next. We can celebrate gifts and shore up weaknesses. We can help our fellow brothers and sisters to reach their God-given potential, and forge relationships that allow us to best serve the others in our lives. We can encourage both personal responsibility and true community, as each individual serves God and one another in Christ.

Just as we were created to do.

A Call to Community

Recently, there has been some drama in various corners of the internet where I live. One such piece of drama involved a role playing game (RPG) for the Harry Potter fandom, where the moderators called it "Kristallnacht." For those of you not familiar with the name, it is translated "Night of the Broken Glass," and was a key point in World War II history, where the Nazis harmed thousands of Jews, arrested a number of them, and looted stores and businesses. As you might imagine, the choice to name a game after such a night caused many quite a bit of anger, and when some folks expressed that anger, the creators of the game responded with comments like, "It's ancient history. Get over it." I'm sure you can guess how well that went over."

I've been following this whole kerfuffle with some interest. You see, I love history, and have ever since I was a small child. History, to me, is just as good as fantasy or sci-fi. History is a story that really happened, and like other stories, we have a chance to learn from it. I have noticed a dearth of interest in history among people of my generation, however. If it's not now, current, and affecting you (generic) personally, then it doesn't matter.

Having followed a link to a post from one of the people who was most responsible for keeping the flames of anger burning, I saw the following comment (from her, in response to someone else):

You're still thinking that I'm saying you don't have a right to be upset, which isn't it at all. But as people, we need to look out for ourselves and decide the right actions for us to take. In my journal, I am expressing where I know I fucked up and what I need to work on. I'm coping with my emotions in a manner that isn't going out and attacking people.

Then, after following a link to a story about the conditions in Auschwitz, I was struck by the similarity to this statement made by a former SS officer after being asked if he felt badly that he'd made his own life more comfortable stealing from the victims while millions died:

Oskar Gröning: "Absolutely not. Everybody is looking out for themselves. So many people died in the war, not only Jews. So many things happened, so many were shot, so many snuffed it. People burnt to death, so many were burnt, if I thought about all of that I wouldn't be able to live one minute longer."

I want to be clear that I'm not equating the actions of the two. One was a foolish girl who made inflammatory and ignorant remarks about a period of history that she has clearly not studied in depth. (Because no one could tell another person to "get over" the Holocaust if they'd studied it at all.) The other was an SS officer who was complicit in the deaths of thousands, if not millions, who died at the hands of the Nazis. It's the sense of "I am going to look out for my own interests and am responsible to no one" that gets me.

The truth, the whole truth, is that we are all responsible to one another. It's an unpopular opinion in these days of extreme individualism, but every action that you or I take will have an impact on another. A statement you make denigrating someone's religion or race will impact them negatively, which could then cause them to respond negatively to someone else down the road. For example, take Anne Coulter. She claims to be a Christian, and yet her statements cause so many to feel that all Christians are bigoted idiots, which then affects me, someone she doesn't even know. Because then, when I say that I'm a Christian, those who know of Anne Coulter and don't really know me, draw an obvious comparison.

Hundreds of years ago, John Donne said that "no man is an island." I'm sure that if he lived today, in the time of gender neutrality in writing, he would have said that "no person is an island," and that is absolutely true. We cannot only be responsible to ourselves and for ourselves, or the whole world descends into chaos. We must also be responsible to others and for others, or we lose what makes us human. The choice to look out only for ourselves, to not think about others, or future generations is what has resulted in the degradation of the environment, in the choice to look the other way while another is molested or suffers abuse.

So, consider this a call to a community perspective. Is it possible that we can reverse years of ingrained individualism and think of our neighbor? As a Christian, I am called to "love my neighbor as myself," but couldn't we all do that? And wouldn't the world be a better place as a result?

I'm not saying that we should all be "nice" all the time, and stifle our emotions. It may actually mean that we call things what they are--that we say to someone, hey, you're being rude, or abusive, or cruel. It may mean that we make some waves in calling bad behavior just that. It might mean that we take the harder road, and lose friends.

Or maybe it means that we end up being better people with bigger hearts. I could live with that.

It's a War, I Say

The truth is that it's hard to be a woman.  A co-worker and I were joking today that if men had to go through with half the stuff that we have to, the world would come screeching to a halt.  I don't actually believe that, but since I'm dealing with the monthly curse today (and it is a curse), I suspect that there might be some truth to it.

Apart from just the physical aspects, however, there is also the cultural aspects.  Dismiss me as a hysterical feminist if you wish, but nearly every culture has waged war against women, making it more and more difficult to embrace our authentic selves, to fully enjoy our femininity--however we choose to define it.  I have several examples, but we'll start with just one for today. You'll be seeing the other two in subsequent posts.

I ran across this news article this week and was appalled for a number of reasons, most of them probably fairly obvious.  The quest for youth and beauty isn't new, of course, nor is it limited just to women.  I couldn't help but notice that most of those quoted in the article, or shown in the slideshow, were women.  I can't count the number of articles I've read about modeling companies wanting younger and younger girls (and I do mean "girls") to capture the essence of youth.  Where before 25 seemed young, now it appears as though that's old-maidhood.  The fact that one woman in the article was 26 when she started getting "preventative" Botox treatments to prevent the formation of wrinkles seems rather obscene to me, particularly when you consider what Botox really is.  I don't know about anyone else, but I'd prefer not to have a dangerous toxin injected into my facial muscles in order to destroy all lines--and expression.

The fact is that I'm 28, and I've started seeing the fine lines and wrinkles that seem so abhorrent to our culture today.  And I can guaran-damn-tee that I won't be getting Botox, nor would I choose to get surgical enhancements.  As far as I can see, there are way too many ways to go wrong, and when it does go wrong, it goes really wrong.  The only way you can hide those results, at least on your face, is by walking around with a paper bag over your head, which is like wearing a big neon sign announcing that something has gone badly wrong.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not saying that you shouldn't take care of yourself. I've heard that moisturizing can do wonders, and if you could see my maternal grandmother, you'd know that staying out of the sun can do a lot for you, too.  I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with wearing makeup, or plucking stray hairs, whatever conforms to your sense of beauty.  But the idea of trying to erase all signs of aging seems downright wrong.  We're human; we age.  Eventually, we die.

Call me crazy, but I think that we as women should embrace every line, wrinkle and gray hair. Why, you ask? How many women die before they can show any of those things? How many women's lives have ended early? How many women have been killed by breast cancer or other forms of cancer? How many women have been murdered?

In short, how many women would have loved the chance to see another gray hair or another line or wrinkle? How many loved ones would have adored the opportunity to see their mother or sister or daughter or wife or girlfriend simply age?  Why should we as women (and men!) feel pressured to "not give into" the signs of aging, when those very signs indicate that we have been given a precious gift of time.

To me, the very emphasis on erasing wrinkles at the expense of real human emotion, at erasing laugh lines that evidence the fact that we have lived and felt joy, says a lot about our culture, and none of it good.  In my opinion, it's time we embrace our own humanity again, and that of others.  It's time to reject a culture steeped in the sort of shallowness that would call on us to reject who we are, who we have been created to be, to erase all individuality and uniqueness.

Maybe, just maybe, it's time to learn how to love ourselves and our bodies, imperfections and all.

Why Being a Christian Feminist Isn't a Contradiction in Terms

A lot of Christians will complain that feminism has brought society down, and a few would even go so far as to claim that feminism is directly responsible for the high divorce rate and other things that are regarded as signs the world is coming to an end. They would say that all feminists are out to get the women in the workforce and that they would completely replace men if at all possible. Some feminists would likely argue that Christians are a bunch of Bible-thumping traditionalists intent on keeping women barefoot and pregnant. And, of course, they would be be right and wrong in pretty much equal measure.

In my own opinion, a Christian is someone who follows the teachings of Christ. The rest of it, including how you structure your marriage, and how you decide to structure your church, can be defined as details. Important details, but part of our interesting differences, rather than the divisive force we often allow them to become.

Feminists are people who believe that women should have the freedom and access to information necessary to make the best decision possible for their lives. They would probably also argue that a woman ought to be completely free to determine how best to use her talents and spend her life. There is nothing in either Christianity or feminism that would make the other anathema, whatever the critics might say. In fact, I would argue that Christians ought to be feminists, at least under that particular definition.

In my experience, feminists are not man-haters--at least, not all of them are. Feminists merely want for women what men have had for centuries, or possibly millennia. Although there are those who would say that we're past that now, that women do have all the opportunities and advantages that men do, but that's simply not true. We've seen this most poignantly with Hillary's race for the Democratic nomination. Whatever you think about Hillary Clinton and her policies, I think most would agree that the treatment she's received in the press has revealed underlying misogynisitic tendencies still present in the American culture. (And if you don't agree with that, I encourage you to think very hard about the focus on Hillary's appearance, the critique of her tears, and the slams by her opponents, not to mention the use of the word "bitch" by various pundits. No one would dare to use a racial epithet for Obama; it would be beyond the pale, and I pray that we see the day when the same is true of a female candidate.)

The fact is that we have not yet reached the place where we can do away with feminism. Just look at the raid that occurred in Texas last week on the FLDS compound. The truth is that the authorities have known about the practice of marrying young girls off to old men, as well as the polygamy (which is illegal in the U.S.), the domestic violence, and the sexual abuse, for years. That sort of cult wouldn't even be possible if it weren't for the idea that women are mere chattel, to do with as a man chooses. And before you say it, the fact that Warren Jeffs views all of his followers as pawns does not make it better; in fact, it makes it worse.

Some might say that the activities of a small group of people, some of whom are obviously insane (Warren Jeffs being one of them) mean nothing at all in the larger society, so let me give you an example from my own circle. One of my co-workers, a woman and competent student and law clerk, is in a class that involves a trial simulation for the final exam. One of her opposing counsel, a fellow student, called her a bitch when she wouldn't accede to his demands, and this was not the first time he'd done it. When others hear about that sort of thing, their response is usually limited to, "Oh, that's just [name]. He's a jackass." While that is entirely true, it doesn't change the fact that his behavior is beyond the pale, or should be, and that his fellow students should react with a universal, "We won't put up with that sort of behavior, and if you keep it up, we won't associate with you." Unfortunately, violence against women, including verbal violence, is still tolerated. You see it in statements like that, as well as in the fact that domestic assaults are almost always assessed a lesser penalty than other batteries.

Feminists look at such goings on and point to a history of violence against women, and a tendency to buy and sell women as though they were owned by men. A feminist such as myself looks at the teachings of Christ, and his treatment of women (altogether revolutionary for his time), and views those sorts of activities not just as contrary to the dignity due to humans in general, but contrary to the respect we are commanded to show to our neighbors as Christians. The fact is that feminism as I have seen it defined, and as I have defined it here, is actually complementary to Christian teachings. Ideally, every human being, as a creation of God, would have the opportunity to reach his or her potential and to make an informed decision about how best to use their talents.

That is to say, if a woman freely chooses to stay home with her children, because that is the best decision for her and her family, any feminist should heartily applaud it. And if a woman freely chooses to use her God-given talents as I have, in pursuit of an education and career, then once again, more power to her. And, while I am in favor of ordination of women, I do believe that church structure ought to be a separate issue, one where each denomination makes the decision for itself. While I might not agree with that particular decision, I think that most Christians would agree that it is an issue of doctrine that is not determinative of whether or not someone can be called a Christian.

I want to be clear that I don't hate men. I like them very much, in fact, and I've known some wonderful men who react with the same sort of emotion that I have when they see these sorts of things, even though they would never call themselves feminists. The truth is that the label "feminist" has gained a bad reputation here in the U.S., rightly or wrongly, but the reality is that every person should be free to make a decision about whether or not they will seek higher education, marriage, children, a career, etc. Every person ought to have the freedom necessary to make an informed decision as to where their talents will best be put to use, and whether it is racism, poverty, or sexism that holds someone back, it's just plain wrong. As a Christian, I feel that it's my obligation to call it like I see it, and to fight against those barriers in every form. As a follower of Christ Jesus, I feel that every person is due the respect and dignity belonging to a creation of God.

I'm not saying that there aren't consequences to every decision, because there are. The woman or man who chooses to stay home and raise children will be able to experience milestones that the man or woman who works will not, just as the opposite is true. Whether a person is deciding what to to with their body, who to love, or what major to choose in college, there are always consequences to that decision. But each person has the responsibility to face those consequences and to live with them. It's just a part of being human. I also don't think that you can say that there's one right way to live your life as a woman, or to live your life as a man. What fulfills one person may be completely hellish for another, but that's for the individual to determine. I feel very strongly that each person is responsible for themselves, and to their fellow humans, and that dictating how someone is to live is wrong, even if you do have the best of intentions. Personally, I think that view is entirely biblical.

And that is why I am a Christian feminist.

Community

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to "live in community." I think this might be one of the few terms within evangelical Christianity that doesn't necessarily qualify as "Christianese," as it's fairly self-explanatory. While a community can be comprised of many different sorts of people, the basic idea is always there. One of the definitions in Webster's is "a unified body of individuals," and that about covers it. The things that unify that body might be different from group to group, or location to location, but there is something that binds the people together in one unit.

I must confess that I was always rather impatient when people talked about "community." I am, or have been, a loner, which means I need plenty of solitude to avoid going crazy. As I've grown older, I've begun to see the importance of community, as well as how it might not look the same at all times, or on all occasions.

This is probably fodder for a completely different post, but I would point out that a person needs more than one community. I have my community of friends online, who are from all over the world, and who know more about me than most of the people I see on a weekly basis. I have my community of friends, my community of fellow law students, my family unit. Each performs a different role, and each is necessary to who I am.

But for the purposes of this post, I'm talking about the Christian community, and this is probably the one I've struggled with most. I haven't always been well treated by the church body, nor have I always fit in. When I first began hearing, "Oh, you need to be in community; it's so important to be part of a body of believers," I was kind of pissed off. I thought that I could get on a lot better by myself.

That might be true, at least at certain times. There is a time for everything, and I do believe that there is a time for solitude; you can learn a lot from loneliness and being alone, and I don't regret those periods of time in my life. But I now find myself part of a group, and I'm discovering that there are many reasons why you do need to be with others who share your beliefs and values.

The standard reasons apply, of course, the ones people talk about all the time (the reasons that made it sound like a chore, rather than something good). "As iron sharpens iron, so one (wo)man sharpens another." It's easier to stay accountable, to do the right thing, knowing that someone will find out about it later. Ideally, they will find out and gently remonstrate with you, rather than making you feel like a pariah, but there's a certain safety in knowing that there are people who will care if you break your promise to yourself, or to God.

Others will say that community is necessary so that you can learn love, which is entirely true. I think that the lesson of how not to kill someone when they get on your last nerve is entirely underrated. Think of how chaotic the world would be if we didn't learn how not to kill one another. Ideally, we also learn acceptance along with tolerance; love instead of indifference; how to actively make peace, rather than fighting.

But one of the lessons I'm learning now, as I fall more deeply in love with my boyfriend, and see how he loves me--the lesson I'm learning through those involved in my Bible study, and watching how they show love to one another--is how God loves us.

It's easy to say that God loves us, but as some are fond of pointing out, love is an action, and it's sometimes difficult to see the love of an invisible God, even when you think about the very physical sacrifice of His Son. That act of atonement occurred two thousand years ago, and the reality of it seems so very far away some days.

If we are created in the image of God, if we carry the imago dei, then we can see God through others' loving actions towards us, however. Standing around tonight, having prayed for a family whose infant nearly died, listening to the mother profess the love she'd seen others pour out on her in a community of faith, I knew I was a witness to God's love. It wasn't just the miracle of new life she was holding, the baby boy who should have died in the womb, it was in the actions of the other members of our group who had cared for her and her family during that difficult time.

In a romantic relationship or even a close friendship, it's knowing that the other person sees you both for who you are, but also for who you were meant to be. The best kinds of relationships, the best sorts of communities, are those--the ones that see you as God created you to be, and continually bring you closer to being that person. Surely Christ is our best example of this, because He saw those around Him for who they were, but He also saw them as they were meant to be. It was for that reason that He could tell Peter that he would betray Christ, not once but three times, and also that Peter would be the rock upon which His church was built.

It is that aspect of community that I think is key--not that we learn to love others as God loved us, although that is very important--but that we catch a glimpse of how God sees us and loves us anyway. For I believe that if we truly knew who we were meant to be, who God created us to be, we might be a lot better at being human.

Palm Sunday

If you know anything about the Christian calendar, you are probably aware that today is Palm Sunday, and that it is the beginning of Holy Week. If you are a Christian and attend a more traditional church, you will likely spend this week recreating the final week of Jesus' earthly life, from his triumphal entry to his resurrection Easter morning. Having never been part of a truly liturgical church, I have generally skipped right from Palm Sunday to Easter without spending much time on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, and I think that might present something of a problem.

In most churches, Palm Sunday is the day when the children come in, sometimes singing, sometimes not, waving palm branches. Most of them have goofy grins on their faces, happy to be the center of attention for a little while, or perhaps they're happy to have a way to participate in the service. The songs for Palm Sunday services are generally triumphal in tone, mirroring the songs of the people in Jerusalem as Jesus came riding in, singing "Hosanna in the highest."

The irony, of course, is that those who cheered him on, as recorded in the Gospels, were calling for his death just a few short days later. They thought that they were getting a Prophet King who would restore Israel's fortunes and free the people from their Roman oppressors. What they got was a suffering servant, "a man of sorrows, and well acquainted with grief." Even though we should know better now, I sometimes wonder if we don't make the same mistake, believing that if only we pray enough, read our Bibles enough, go to church often enough, Jesus will be the conquering King who frees us from all troubles while we live in this world. In general, especially in less liturgical churches, little attention is paid to Jesus' suffering, except for a quick reference on Easter. And it has been rare to talk about the call to suffer at any other time of the year, except in reference to overcoming it, to triumphing over it.

The hazard of skipping what comes in between Palm Sunday and Easter, in not remembering Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, is that it is all too easy to remember nothing but the triumphal entry and the even more victorious resurrection, while forgetting the suffering that comes in between--the suffering that we, in fact, are promised. We forget that Christ the Lord is also Christ the Servant, and that we are called to bear his image in this world. The promise is not that we will escape suffering here, but that Christ will give us rest, that "a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3a). Call me crazy, but if we are meant to reflect his image, shouldn't this be our focus? Oughtn't we to follow in his footsteps, both in accepting suffering as it comes to us, and in comforting those who are currently struggling? (To be fair, I should state that this was something that we discussed in this morning's service in the church I am currently attending.)

In the Book of Common Prayer, the collect for the Sunday of the Passion (Palm Sunday) is as follows: "Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen."

I am, to be sure, not very good at this. I like being comfortable, and I dislike hurt of any sort, physical or emotional. I certainly have a fear of suffering, which is why I think I shall be praying this particular prayer a lot in the future, and trusting that He will give me the humility and courage to bear whatever may come my way.

Introduction

I have been thinking about creating a blog like this for some time. It is, essentially, a space for thinking out loud about things that I find important, even vital. I have a personal journal online as well, which has essentially replaced the paper journal I kept for years. That kind of blog is not one you can direct people to when you tell them that your hobby is blogging.

It's probably important that you know that I call myself an evangelical Christian, even though I'm not always comfortable with that label; it has such negative connotations in some circles, but I fit the definition as far as orthodoxy and doctrine go. I also call myself a feminist, although I try not to be strident. Politically, I am moderate, and will lean left or right, depending on the day. I love popular culture, even though as a Christian I am called to be in the world but not of it.

My goal here is not to convince anyone that I am right, but merely to think out loud, and perhaps to cause others to think, too.