Merely Clothes

In what little spare time I have, I was reading up on some Lacan the other day and stumbled across this quote:

"I can tell you a little tale, that of a parakeet that was in love with Picasso. How could one tell? From the way the parakeet nibbled the collar of the shirt and the flaps of his jacket. Indeed, the parakeet was in love with what is essential to man, namely, his attire. The parakeet was like Descartes, to whom men were merely clothes (habits) walking about. Clothes promise debauchery when one takes them off. But this is only a myth, a myth that converges with the bed I mentioned earlier. To enjoy a body when there are no more clothes leaves intact the question of what makes the One, that is, the question of identification. The parakeet identified with the clothed. 

The same goes for everything involving love. The habit loves the monk, as they are but one thereby. In other words, what lies under the habit, what we call the body, is perhaps but the remainder." (Jacques Lacan, The Seminar of Jacques Lacan Book XX: On Feminine Sexuality, the Limits of Love and Knowledge 1972-73)

I find this passage incredibly interesting. What better way to sum up the postmodern situation than the picture of men (and women) who are "merely clothes walking about"? We create for ourselves images and projections of who we want to be and display that to society. We take on identities, whether it be a monk's habit or business suit or what have you, and let them control us to the extent that we become synonomous with them. We have a desire to break through, to view our authentic selves, but even this is 'debaucherous'. In many ways the so-called 'relativism' of the postmodern context simply speaks to this plurality of identities as well as to the schism between identity and truth.

Now, by no means to I want to return to a monolithic view of truth that is imposed upon others. We are not healed by changing clothes, but by reconciling with them. Brad did a great job in advocating for our identity ('who we be') to be viewed in an iconic fashion, as a window and a mirror, that points to the truth of God and yet forges our own unique self-identity. Truth is the iconic connection between our bodies and our identities, who we are and who we are called to be, the now and the not yet, which is forged in faith.

Braid

If you know me at all than you know my love of video games. A couple months ago I stumbled across this one as a download on the 360. It is called Braid and is kind of a high-brow artsy take on the whole Mario storyline (Save the princess, who always is in the next castle).

Anyways, the game introduces the protaginists quest with this text blurb:

"Tim is off on a search to rescue the Princess. She has been snatched by a  horrible and evil monster. This happened because Tim made a mistake."  "Not just one. He made many mistakes during the time they spent together, all  those years ago. Memories of their relationship have become muddled, replaced  wholesale, but one remains clear: the princess turning sharply away, her braid  lashing at him with contempt."  "He knows she tried to be forgiving, but who can just shrug away a guilty lie,  a stab in the back? Such a mistake will change a relationship irreversibly,  even if we have learned from the mistake and would never repeat it. The  princess's eyes grew narrower. She became more distant."  "Our world, with its rules of causality, has trained us to be miserly with  forgiveness. By forgiving them too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we've  learned from a mistake and became better for it, shouldn't we be rewarded for  the learning, rather than punished for the mistake?"  "What if our world worked differently? Suppose we could tell her: 'I didn't  mean what I just said,' and she would say: 'It's okay, I understand,' and she  would not turn away, and life would really proceed as though we had never said  that thing? We could remove the damage but still be wiser for the experience."  "Tim and the Princess lounge in the castle garden, laughing together, giving  names to the colorful birds. Their mistakes are hidden from each other, tucked  away between the folds of time, safe.""

This reflection both introduces the story (to save the princess) as well as the primary game mechanic (you have to reverse time in order to solve puzzles). Later, other such reflections are introduces. For example, one level addresses the topic of time and space where as you move forward and backward in the level all the monsters/objects similarly move forward and back in time. It's all rather interesting.

However, I don't intend this to be simply a review of the game (although I do highly recommend it), but rather just a shallow inquiry into the state of our entertainment. It is possible to do a lot with small, simple elements. Sometimes our games/movies/art/books/whatever are filled with flashy gimmicks while not reaching deeper into the human condition. Again, I am not trying to be critical of anything in particular. But, why do we settle for less when we can acheive so much more?

Alain Badiou, a contemporary French philosopher, wrote 15 theses on contemporary art which can be found here: http://www.lacan.com/issue22.htm . Particularly interesting is the last couple points. For example, #13:

"13. Today art can only be made from the starting point of that which, as far as Empire is concerned, doesn't exist. Through its abstraction, art renders this inexistence visible. This is what governs the formal principle of every art : the effort to render visible to everyone that which for Empire (and so by extension for everyone, though from a different point of view), doesn't exist."

In many ways, this mimics our own challenge in ministry. How can we make sure that what we are doing is not simply mimicing the commercialism we are immersed in? How can we take seriously Jesus' radical challenge to build the Kingdom of Heaven from the perspective of the 'least of these'? How can our ministry and worship (which really is an art form) be continuously challenging our perspective?

I may have strayed from my original thought, which was on a game of all things, but I do believe there is a depth to everything and we just have to take the time to draw it out. As Badiou reminds us, it's dangerous to settle for less.

Witness

At the last General Conference of the UMC, the call to witness was added our membership vow in the church. As a member of the UMC, we commit our prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness. Witness has always been a conflicted term for me due in a large part to my evangelical upbringing (and all it's instructions on how to save souls) that I have since moved away from, but this post is not about that. Rather, I think beyond all our divisions there is a base passion that drives the human soul and a key part of our spirituality is the act of identifying and expressing that passion.

This past week I was looking for a lesson for Wednesday Night Youth Group and I came to the idea of witness or testimonial. I will preface this with the fact that Trinity's youth group (Journey) is amazing. There never have been problems of cliques that often plague such groups and I have witnessed many friendships with new members. There has never been a discipline issue so our activities can be much more relaxed and I trust them to care for themselves. They are always open to learning and new ideas and indeed have taught me a lot in the few years I have been there. However, there is always room to move deeper and really learn their stories. Thus I came to the topic of witness.

NPR has a program called 'This I Believe' in which they invite anyone to submit a short essay sharing their life philosophy. A week or so ago there was the ubercute submission of a seven year old who wrote 30 things that he believed. The examples are endless: a high-school girl describing her belief in diversity embodied in her choice to wear a muslim head-scarf, a man describing life's ridiculousness and the beauty contained therein, Wayne Coyne's (lead singer of Flaming Lips) belief in finding your own happiness in all of life's moments. All of these, and many more, can be found here: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4538138 . Anyways, I had the youth read some of these stories as well as the story of Paul from the Bible speaking about how his own experience of conversion drove his ministry and asked the youth to reflecting on a simple question: what do you believe?

The response was amazing. Many wrote several pages that went quite in depth into their own experience. They spoke of a desire for love and equality. They wrote about the need to stop violence based on the violence they had seen and experienced. Some took a more silly approach as well, but even then filled pages with their list. It was quite inspiring to hear them share. To conclude the exercise we all traced our hands on a sheet and wrote one word summarizing our beliefs. I wanted to use this as an altar cloth, a covering for our shared table that carries an imprint from each one of us.

The whole activity greatly inspired me. When planning youth stuff, I never know how it is going to go. The impression this left on me is that we all have issues/beliefs/whatever that we are passionate about. This is our witness, living out our calling to make a better community. The church as a center for our spiritual lives should be a place of connecting with and sharing these passions with other believers, but too often we replace these with empty ritual or pithy life lessons.

How can we as the church be better about sharing our passions and connecting with them in worship? What are the next steps to bringing these about? Perhaps it is a true sign of success when an activity raises more questions than it answers.

Beginnings...

Recently I am noticing how often negative feelings can pop up and how stifling they can be. More often than not lately I have just been downright angry. I am angry at Saint Paul, angry at the UMC... This is not to say that there isn't some justification for these feelings. I was told by the church that I wasn't welcome because of my age. To this day I am still not certified because I am ignored. I sit in classes where my fellow students take it as an opportunity to air their own personal thoughts rather than create a learning environment with the professor. I have been labeled arrogant and a cheat by professor's and subsequently graded down for reading beyond the required course material. It would be maddening if it weren't so downright sad, like we as the church have given up the fight for relevancy in the culture and instead chosen to defend outdated traditions because it is all we have. I often wonder, what has brought us to this point?

That may all sound dark and dreary, and to some extent it is, but I believe in hope. I have been reading 'A Broad Place', the autobiography of German theologian Jurgen Moltmann, and reading his story and passion for theology has renewed my soul. He tells of how he challenged an ecumenical conference to solve the issue of the filioque, the question of whether the Spirit processed from the Father or from the Father through the Son that was a main point of division between the Western and Eastern churches. After many hours of work they arrived on a settlement that since the Father and Son are eternally together the statement of procession through the Son is an unnecessary restatement of the original and thus could be removed. Moltmann lists off the endless names of obscure theologians who he studied and based his own beliefs on as well as the minute distinctions between different thinkers that has created theological dialogue. The book is intense in its attention to detail. It scares me as a potential theologian to think that there is so much to know. My reading list never stops growing...

However, beyond the minutiae (which I dorkily enjoy), what the book brings back to me is a passion for ideas that is the foundation for theological inquiry. Moltmann told of his experience in the World War 2 and the struggle to rebuild the German nation that somehow had to face the atrocities it committed. Deep within us all, beyond all our words and convoluted ideas is a recognition that there is a God and that God is speaking to us in ways that are both distant in his mystery and near in his love. It is our challenge as theologians and people of God to bring that presence to light. Just as an artist or writer has love for their craft, so to must we strive for the best in our practice of ministry and not settle for merely what works or how we have always done it.

So my challenge this semester will not to be bogged down in the pettiness that makes up our current context, but to continually strive to follow my calling. I hope that we can develop a community that embraces creativity and passion in ministry rather than merely judging the works of others. I hope to continue my own studies and pursuit of new ideas and look forward to hearing yours as well. As I look toward my own future with my graduation from Saint Paul only 3 months away, I feel as though I am at a new beginning. The idea of beginning is a scary thought after all the work I have had to put in to get where I am, but it's also exciting in the opportunity this moment brings with it. My goal is simply to center my own life around the hopeful expectation I have for the future and usher the same hope into the communities I serve.