Bible Blogging

Last week when I asked about topics you like to see covered, Steppenwolf asked for a blog on the role of women in the Church and he specifically asked that it be in the context of 1 Cor. 14:33-38.  I've thought about this for a couple of days and finally (obviously) decided - yes, I will address this topic. 

I find that most people outside Christianity yawn and go in search of beer when the discussion turns to doctrine.  But, on the subject of Women and the Church, even people who have never been interested in Christianity have an opinion.  I'm putting on my theologian hat now, so buckle in.

The particular passage that Stepp asked me to address is from a letter that the apostle Paul wrote to the Church in Corinth.  This particular church was having more than it's share of weirdness going on in the pews.  There were people bringing wine to the communion meal and getting sloshed, there was a case of open incest that was so scandalous it had people outside the church gossiping, there were people who converted to Christianity on Sunday but still went to visit the prostitutes at Artemis' temple on Monday, and the list goes on. 

By the time that Paul gets down to Chapter 14 of the letter, he has worked up a considerable amount of passion for chewing these people out.  Paul has a habit of getting a wee bit sarcastic with people who have irritated him.  (Check out the letter to the Galatians, some of the people in that church were getting all righteous and insisting that new converts be circumcized.  Paul says that if they are all that fired up to slice and dice, he'd like to see them start by cutting off their own penis before they go telling other guys to line up at the chopping block.  Gal. 5:12)

In order to understand the passage that Stepp asks about, it's good to look at the whole context.  Earlier in the letter Paul has given instructions for proper female decorum when praying in the church (he says, "don't dress like a prostitute, it sends mixed messages").  In the first part of chapter 14, Paul talks about the orderliness of worship and makes the point that when one person has something to say, the others should be quiet and listen.  He doesn't say when one man has something to say, he uses a pronoun tht includes both genders.  It seems an obvious conclusion that he expects women will be praying, speaking, and prophesying (that's Bible talk for preaching) since he includes them in the isntructions for doign so.

Now, we get down to verses 33-35 where he writes that women aren't allowed to speak or ask questions in the congregation but have to be silent and wait til they get home when they can ask their husbands.  Then in verse 36 (now this is a little known translation, it will read differently in your Bible) he says "*&^@#! who the hell do you think you are!?"  Only one English translation includes the expletive, and they toned it down - the RSV says "What! ....."

The only way that anyone could interpret the passage as anything other than Paul rebuking certain people by quoting their "rule" on women and then blasting them is by 1) failure to properly interpret the passage from the original Greek text or 2) failure to read the passage in it's full context. 

Unfortunately, some Christian leaders today still contort that text to support a doctrine of women as second class citizens in the church.  (I find that the same people who interpret this verse to restrict women find other verses they can interpret in equally restrictive ways on all kinds of other issues.)  I don't argue with them, I nod, smile pleasantly, and on the way home, I tell my husband that I'm not going back to that place again.

So Many Topics . . .

I cannot decide what to write about today.  I finally got my chance to see The Two Towers over the weekend, and I'm full of ideas sparked by this second installment of the trilogy.  The pastor at our church is preaching a series titled "The Day Northside told the Truth About . . ."  He's covering topics that generally guarantee a spike in Xanga traffic and that's tempted me mightily to write along those lines.  Plus, it's snowing today.  So far we have a fine dusting of the white powder covering the hill and I have two little boys thrilled with the sight.  The wonder of nature calls to me for a place in the journal.

You have all been very kind to me with encouraging comments and support after the journal entry that revealed an old trauma in my life.  I could write (another) blog about how very much I appreciate you and try again to say how amazing it is to find connections with people I've never met, but whom I know better than my neighbors.  I had a conversation with my friend about my relationship with Xanga.  I described for her some of my motivations for writing here and contrasted that with the difficulty I have doing "real" writing.  The kind of writing that might get me published.  She pointed out that I get so many compliments from you that it's no wonder I'm motivated to write here.   It's true that you are very kind, especially when I consider that most of the people who interact in my comments section don't share my views on the existence (or nature) of God, the nature of reality, or the nature of humanity.  (Yes, I did a scientific survey, over 63% of the people who regularly comment here have expressed disagreement with these basic views.) 

When I asked for suggestions on future topics, two of you asked me to index me previous blogs for easy reference.  Index?!  lol.  You know me well, that's exactly the kind of organizational challenge that could cause me to put my life on hold.  I started this task over the weekend, so if you come into the site from the front door rather than your SIR list, you will notice a module to the left with the beginnings of an index.  Now I need to learn to do a drop list of links, because if I'm going to do this right, it's going to take up way more space than I'd really like to alot. 

It's Tuesday, which means that I watched CSI Miami last night and that makes me think of Florida and how much I'd like to be on a beach about now.  This time last year I was preparing for a trip to Pensacola.  In fact, I believe it was exactly a year ago today, January 14, that I was driving the minivan south with a big smile on my face.  This year, I have self-control and restraint.  I'm not going to Florida - until January 25.  I'm very pleased with my ability to exercise delayed gratification for these extra nine days.  I could write a blog about the virtue of temperance.

Or, I could just write a haiku . . .

my big blue chair waits
soft and warm beside the window
chores before my book

And a blessing . . .

May you run wild and free today, finding what you need, leaving that which slows you down, and loving with the purity of all your heart. 

Taking Care of Me . . .

If you've been reading me long, you've heard mention of the bubble bath cure.  When things get tough, I light the candles, turn on the music and soak til the water gets cold.  Today I've been trying to have a "be nice to Terri" day and do homeschool at the same time.  SO the bubble bath isn't a good option.

I'm hanging out in my second favorite place.  My Big Blue Chair.  I LOVE the BBC.  It's a huge recliner with a built in massage and heat feature.  I'm wrapped up in a very soft blanket and I have incense burning on the table next to me.  It's a purely sensual indulgence. 

Since the last time I posted a photo of my reading corner (location of the BBC) I've finished the corner opposite my chair, so this is what I see from where I sit . . .

I still haven't figured out the whole flash and light settings thing from my new camera so you can't see very well that the poster on the wall is the Rhododendron Window that I saw when I visited Dwaber for the tour of the Kokomo Opalescent Glass Factory.  The pencil drawing is one that Tim did several years ago of Michael and Tucher.

In the close-up you can see one of the two fountains and a fan that wormy sent me from Korea.  The newest addition to the corner is my Zen Garden.  If I had a better grasp of landscaping, I'd have a much larger one in my yard. 

If I Could Write . . .

When I start to write a blog, it seldoms comes out the way I wish it would.  If I could write the perfect blog it would be funny but not just a joke.  If I could write the perfect blog it would be profound but still something other people could relate to.  If I could write the perfect blog, it would inspire you to write long comments and maybe even email me to continue the conversation.  If I could write the perfect blog, it would be a gem, short and sparkly, requiring no use of the scroll bar.  If I could write the perfect blog it would contain equal parts of "I hadn't thought of that before" and "Hey, I'm the one who taught her that!."

In an exercise of the new calendar last night, I jumped back around and read past blogs I've written.  But even more than those blogs I read your comments.  One comment that hasn't struck me with much force until I saw it last night attached to diferent blogs by different people was "Now, THIS is the kind of blog I like to see on your site, THIS is what I come here for."  That got me wondering.

It feels very presumptuous of me to ask you (almost like I'm trying to get you to do my homework.)  But, I'm going to ask anyway.  If you could have a particular topic included in a quiltnmomi blog, what would you want to see?  I could revisit a topic that you thought needed a second look.  I could do something entirely new.  It might not be as funny, clever, sparkly, or inspirational as I would hope.  But, it would be a lot of fun for me.

#################

If you want to make a smiley : - ) (don't forget the nose)
If you want to make a devil : - P  (you have to capitalize the P)
If you want to make a jester : - D 
If you want Smiley-guy to wear shades ; - ) 
If you want to see Smiley comfort his sad friend : - (  

That Was Close! 

(in regard to yesterday's poems, no one guessed both of them, but Moniet was right that one of mine is the e. e. cummings forgery.  The other I wrote was the Shakespeare, which Faith liked, but didn't enter as a guess.  What do you think judges, should they get a potholder anyway?)

It's Friday and I'm ready for the weekend.  Starting back with our school routine is never easy, no matter what kind of school, kids or teacher.  We've had a particularly challenging week.  My kids have uttered the phrase "I'm bored," "This is boring," or "I don't want to" at least a dozen times a day.  But, so far they are surviving anyway.  (Once in a fit of irritation I told them that if they were bored they must not have enough to do and doubled their math problems.  But, even that wasn't enough to totally do them in.)

Friday nights are reserved for family.  We have pizza, games and hang out in our pajamas watching videos past bedtime on Friday nights.  But for now, I'm going to finish up our school week and then plug into some good music for the afternoon.  I can see the glow of the coming weekend just around the corner.

Diversions of the Echo Club

This club attempts to make better that which has already been done. On the occasion of the writing of the following gems, each member chose the style of his or her favorite poet to rework the ideas made famous by Mr. Gelett Burgess (who’s original poem appears last.)  I wrote two of these - a potholder to the first person (other than Daff) who can tell which.

In the style of John Milton

Trying Times -

I'm having a major problem with my modem-server relationship.  I have a dial-up modem.  I'm too far from the switching center for a DSL and there is no cable on this country lane.  I've looked into Satellite, but it flat out costs way more than I can afford.  So for the past several weeks I've been getting connect speeds of 2600, 4000, 6400 and the like.  At that pathetic rate it takes ages for each of your pages to load, which means that my commenting is way down.  I've tried to visit several sites today and had them time out before they load. 

The phone repairman is coming out tomorrow to see if there is something that can be done to my phone line that will clear things up.  Frankly, I'm expecting a big bill for not much (if any) difference. 

If you haven't seen it yet, Fugitive, has a re-post that she put up after reading my blog for today.  It's amazingly beautiful.

Check the Label

I received an email from a friend last week with the following phrase, "staid conservative mommy, Terri" used to describe me.  Now, I'll admit I'm taking the phrase out of context, in the end, my friend used it to make a point about how "un" those things she's found me to be.  But, I've thought a lot about this over the past several days.  I've wondered what kinds of labels I wear that I'm ... unaware ... have been projected by my words, demeanor, or general appearance.

I'm not fond of labels.  Mostly because I've never found one that fit.  I've known people who happily labeled themselves, but even those labels left little parts uncovered, or bunched uncomfortably over areas that weren't as developed as the label implied. 

I'll grant you the word staid right off the bat.  My dictionary defines staid as "marked by settled sedateness and often prim self-restraint, sober, grave".  Yeah, that pretty much covers my life right now.  It hasn't always been this way, and even now there are times I break out of sedation for a moment or two before settling back down.  Partly this is due to my role as a parent.  Not because I want to hide the "truth" about momi's wild days from my kids, but really most of the time I'm just too tired to be anything other than sedate.

But, conservative!  Now that one hurts.  I wonder what makes me appear to be a conservative?  Is it the traditional "stay at home with the kids" role I play?  Is it the white, middle-class, Christian thing?  Or does it have to do with the fact that I'm more apt to be excited by a new quiltning instructor with a fancy patchworking technique than the latest firewalking guru?  Not that there's anything wrong with walking on fire, I live with little kids, so it's good to be prepared to walk on fire, I'd just prefer to hold off that experience unless they light up the carpet.

I last voted Republican for national office in ... never.  I divide my vote about equally between Demoncrats and Libertarians.  (I wouldn't vote for Jesse Ventura but I gladly supported Paul Wellstone.)

I am a fiscal conservative, if by that you mean that I believe you shouldn't spend money that you don't have.  (Which leads me to adamantly oppose President Bush's current deficit-creating economic policies.)  I am a fiscal liberal if by that you mean that I believe in public support of programming that provides a safety net for people disenfranchised, disadvantaged, or otherwise unable to share access to the benefits of life in a free society.

I'm a social liberal in that I believe strict unquestioned observance of orthodox, traditional, or established forms is foolish.  I'm a social conservative in that I believe ad hoc rejection of orthodox, traditional or established forms is foolish.

I'm an educational conservative if by that you mean that I believe in Homeschool.  I'm an educational liberal if by that you mean that I believe kids are better educated through broad-based exposure to the liberal arts than by narrow tracking in vocational programs. 

Do what kind of labels do you wear?  What labels have people given you that don't fit?  Have you ever felt compelled to act in a way that redefined you because of a label you weren't comfortable with?  Have you ever rebelled against a "bad" label, or pretended something that wasn't true in order to protect a "good" label?

Row, Row, Row

"One who rows a boat turns his back on the goal toward which he labors."  Soren Kierkegaard

We are deep into our school.  I have two children who are challenged and challenging in very different ways.  Michael processes information differently than your average bear.  His brain twists the syntax and the sensations which stimulate his thought.  Too many times he nods and pretends to understand the instruction when in actual fact he hasn't even "heard" the instruction.  Oh, he heard sounds.  But, they didn't mean anything to him, so in what possible way can he be said to have received direction?  Tucker, well, I said to my friend last night that trying to teach Tucker anything is like trying to catch a greased pig.  It's far more entertaining to the spectators than the participants. 

When I started homeschool, I had very specific goals in mind.  I spent years studying and thinking through various philosophies of education, both the method and the goal.  I know what I'm shooting for with my kids and how I plan to get there.  But, the only way to make progress is to turn my back on the goal and face the kid.  We don't get one step closer to having a well-educated adult if I spend my day frustrating my child. 

So what if we don't complete the lesson plan?  It will still be there tomorrow.  But, will the eagerness to learn new things be there tomorrow if I bear down today and grind through to the bitter conclusion of all 25 math problems on that page?  I ask myself this question after using every ounce of creativity to communicate the concepts of the lessons to my children and I wonder if I'm right in my conviction that it's better to nurture them along at their pace than to push them. 

I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to put them in an institutional school.  I wonder if they wouldn't do better if we were apart for a few hours each day so that I could devote more time to homemaking and cookie baking.  I wonder if I wouldn't be a happier person if I had more time to spend pursuing my personal interests, wouldn't that give me more emotional resources to meet my children's needs.  I wonder.

I believe in tailoring school to the strengths of the child.  Why spend all our time trying to hammer out the rough edges when we can polish the smooth surface?  Focusing on the areas the kid is good at has a way of spilling over onto areas of weakness.  The sense of accomplishment that comes from a task well done infuses my child with confidence to attempt the more difficult task in an area that doesn't come easily.  But, focusing on areas of strength looks, even to me, as though my curriculum isn't balanced. 

The only way to avoid unending performance anxiety is to turn my back on the goal and look only at today.  As long as I'm able to see only the lesson we have before us, and not the thick sheaf of lessons to come, am I able to relax and walk through the school with my children in a way that keeps us all interested.  Once I ever turn my eye to all the lessons yet untaught, I'm overwhelmed.

I quote and cling to the words of W. B. Yeats, "Education is not the filling of a bucket, it's the lighting of a fire" and I pray that I'm able to avoid quenching the sparks I see among the kindling by pouring on too much too soon.  It's hard not to peer into the bucket and check that level.  It's hard.

In Other News:  Today is Fugitive's Birthday.  Happy Birthday, Little Sister.