Cabbages and kings…

I find it a little amusing that I wrote in my last post (so long ago, my apologies!) that I expected my interest in fundamentalist Mormon literature to continue into this year.  I actually had absolutely no idea at the time that very topic would become my senior paper.  It actually baffles me that the culmination of my undergraduate education is a paper about sex and violence in fundamentalist Mormon polygamy.  Because I’m actually breaking the rules and not writing my paper on a topic with which I’ve done previous study.  I’m also breaking the rules by writing on a topic with which no faculty in my department has any familiarity.  Ooops.  Imagine that, me ignoring the rules and doing what I want (I may or may not feel pretty awesome doing original scholarship…which in other departments at Rhodes isn’t that big of a deal, but in the RS department, it kinda is).

In any event, it’s pretty fascinating.  And rather depressing.  However, it ties in well with my two other classes this semester: Feminist Theology and Violence and the Bible.  All that to say, my semester essentially consists of reading about rape and sexual assault.  I assure you, it’s good times.

I am, however, no closer to figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.  I believe I’m just about to the point where it really doesn’t bother me…but not quite.  I’m a little anxious about not getting into seminary (I’ve learned to not be so sensitive about using that word, especially since my top choice is now a seminary and not a divinity school).  Because if I don’t get in anywhere, I need to really start thinking about where my life is going and how I might steer it in that general direction.  Regardless, I still very much have a job in the Canyon this fall.  Which puts me in a much better position than most of my comrades here.  Except, of course, my friend Matthew, who’s gotten into every seminary to which he’s heard back from, got a full ride to one of them, and was asked to apply for the premiere scholarship at his top choice.

It’s all very strange that this is the end.  I’m pretty sure I won’t really start believing it until September or so.  Which will be a little bittersweet, seeing as the past two September’s I’ve just wanted to leave school and go back to the Canyon.  But I’m sure that this September I’ll want to not go to the Canyon and instead go back to school.  But I’m not convinced that’s a bad thing.  Anyone who knew me in high school can tell you that I was miserable pretty much the whole time.  Some people are made for high school; I was most certainly not.  I was very bad at high school.  And I was entirely too self-aware for my own good.  But my last semester of high school was great.  College is turning out the same way.  And I’m ok with that.

Where are the words…

Here’s my 2007 reading list.  I was really hoping to get to 50 this year.  Obviously, I didn’t even get close.  But I also spent 4 months out of the country without access to books that I was interested in reading.  So I figure, if I’d had those 4 months, I would have reached 50.  We’ll set that as a preliminary goal for next year, though I may reevaluate that goal next fall (read: I’ll be out of school and in the middle of nowhere, so I may want a much higher goal!).  In any event, I’m pretty pleased with my list this year.  As I’m such a creature of habit, there are some definite patterns.  Nearly 1/3 of them had something to do with Judaism.  Exactly 1/7 were Christian chick-lit (hey, we all have guilty pleasures!).  There was a late surge of books about fundmentalist mormonism which will most definitely carry into next year.  I read multiple books by C.S. Lewis, Lauren Winner, Chaim Potok, Rob Bell, and Kristin Billerbeck; interestingly enough, I love Winner, Potok, and Billerbeck, whereas I can’t stand Lewis and Bell.  I also chose not to list my school books this year, partially because the list was much more unimpressive than previous years and partially because I never got around to listing them before I sold them back.

1. Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis
2. Grand Canyon Brides: Four Harvey Girls Work to Tame the Old West Along the Rails by Dianne Christner, Nancy J. Farrier, Darlene Mindrup, and Pamela Kaye Tracy
3. Other People’s Trades by Primo Levi
4. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
5. Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner (twice)
6. Real Sex by Lauren Winner (unfinished)
7. Sex God by Rob Bell
8. The Promise by Chaim Potok
9. Captivating by John and Stasi Eldridge
10. Olive’s Ocean by Kevin Henkes
11. Girl Meets God by Lauren Winner (reread)
12. Fear and Trembling by Soren Kierkegaard (unfinished)
13. I Am the Grand Canyon: The Story of the Havasupai People by Stephen Hirst
14. Over the Edge: Death in the Grand Canyon by Thomas M. Myers and Michael P. Ghiglieri
15. The Sacred Journey: A Memoir of the Early Days by Frederick Buechner
16. The Gates of November by Chaim Potok
17. Davita’s Harp by Chaim Potok
18. Old Men at Midnight by Chaim Potok
19. Wanderings: The History of the Jews by Chaim Potok (unfinished)
20. Nickel and Dimed : On (Not) Getting By in America by Barbara Ehrennreich
21. To Own A Dragon: Reflections on Growing Up Without a Father by Donald Miller and John MacMurray
22. Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical by Shane Claiborne
23. Three Cups of Tea: One Man’s Mission to Promote Peace…One School at a Time by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin
24. Calm, Cool, and Adjusted by Kristin Billerbeck
25. She’s All That by Kristin Billerbeck
26. A Girl’s Best Friend by Kristin Billerbeck
27. Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith by Rob Bell (unfinished)
28. Escape by Carolyn Jessop and Laura Palmer
29. Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott (unfinished)
30. What A Girl Wants by Kristin Billerbeck
31. Predators, Prey, and Other Kinfolk: Growing Up in Polygamy by Dorothy Allred Solomon (unfinished)
32. Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America by Mike Yankoski
33. Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by Jon Krakauer (unfinished)
34. I Am American (An So Can You!) by Stephen Colbert
35. The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible by A.J. Jacobs

Lost in the dangling conversations…

After our RUF Christmas party a week and a half ago, I went out to Bosco’s for drinks with two other seniors (Ruthanne and Haley), our RUF intern (Casey), and our RUF pastor’s wife (Shelly).  And it was fabulous.  I don’t get to spend near as much time with any of them as I’d like, and I hardly get to see Casey and Shelly at all.

The conversation had been going along pleasantly for a while when Casey asked me if I was excited about going home.  The answer to that question is always no.  Especially this break, when my best friend and I are only going to overlap for about 4 days.  I responded as such with no hestitation, which I think surprised them all a bit.  Casey’s a counselor, so she began asking questions about why, etc.  And I started giving answers, mostly about all the craziness and dysfunctionality that is my family (for the record, I absolutely consider myself just as dysfunctional, albeit in very different ways, as the rest of my family).

Somehow, this conversation led into a discussion on being raised in the PCA.  Oh. My. Lord.  It was incredible.  I can honestly say that I have never before felt so understood while talking about my religious upbringing.  It was fascinating, really.  I grew up PCA.  In fact, until I went off to college, I could count on one hand the number of non-PCA churches I’d ever been to.  Ruthanne started going to PCA churches in high school.  Haley had never heard of reformed theology until midway through college.  Casey and Shelly both became reformed in college, mostly through RUF.  Casey especially is among those who started out as “TR’s” (Totally Reformed…ie, absolutely obsessed with reformed theology, and talking/discussing/arguing/pontificating about it at every possible opportunity).

We talked for a while about how unique my generation is, being the first to be raised PCA.  There are a lot of things that my generation is discovering about the denomination, and especially the culture and sociology of the denomination that most older folks don’t know, simply because they weren’t born into the tradition.  We talked about how the PCA pretty much brainwashes its kids, about a variety of things, but does it very very subtly and unintentionally (or, at least, I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt that there isn’t a brainwashing committee at GA every year).

The thing that we talked about for a long time is the difference in anxiety between reformed and non-reformed kids.  Haley shared about growing up Southern Baptist and worrying that she wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t good enough for Christ and for heaven.  When she first heard about grace when she started attending a PCA church with Ruthanne, she pretty much thought it was the greatest thing in the world.  She didn’t really understand how there was any anxiety coming from the reformed side, since we’d known about grace all along.  But Ruthanne and I talked about the anxiety to do good because of grace, rather than instead.  In other words, Christ has already taken care of this, but how on earth can I even begin to repay him or show him how grateful I am?  (I think there’s also anxiety stemming from the emphasis on following God’s will and God’s call, and the fear of making decisions against His will…but that goes down a really awkward road of everyone’s favorite topic of argument, so I’m not even opening that gate)

Either way, it’s a losing battle.  One can never do enough good for heaven, and one can never do enough good to repay Christ.  And I think there’s burnout either way.  The Southern Baptist kids weary of their works and discover grace.  The Reformed kids weary of grace and discover redemption, but only after first discovering sin.  Which is probably a broad oversimplification of the issue of burnedout Reformed kids.  And it isn’t to say that Reformed kids didn’t ever sin before.  But I know a whole heck of a lot of Reforme kids, myself included, who stumbled upon very visible lifestyle type patterns of sin (read: excessive overdrinking, drug use, sexual issues, etc).

And I think that tells me more about the human condition than any sociology book ever could.  We’re all so screwed up that, even when we should have all the right answers, we still manage to screw up more, because the right answers are never enough of an answer.

Emotional attachment is really not a threat…

I have the tendancy to create really odd emotional attachments to random objects.  I’ve been this way as long as I can remember.  It’s pretty much the primary reason I’m a pack rat and never throw anything away.  And even if I don’t have an emotional attachment to something I’m about to throw away, I’m able to instantaneously create and keep from getting rid of it.  Roommates and parents love this quality of mine, let me tell you.

 It should be of no surprise to anyone who knows me that I have extreme emotional attachments to two guitar picks.  One of them I borrowed/stole this summer from my friend Peter.  It’s just generally a fun pick, and I used it when we recorded the guitar for Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken.  So it has definite good memories.  And reminders of Peter are good things.  Yay.

 The other one was given to me by an old friend.  And by old friend, I mean someone who used to be a friend, but is no longer.  It’s not particularly a happy story.  And while there are certain parts of our friendship worth remembering, it’s tough to recall the good while ignoring the pain.  So I generally try to downplay the former existence of that friendship.  Except…I love that guitar pick fiercely.  It’s the only remaining physical reminder of that friendship.  And while it did end badly, I so love having a reminder of how wonderful it was.  I don’t often use the pick, mostly because it’s starting to chip, but I see it a lot.  Just about every time I play, I have to consciously choose between that pick and Peter’s pick.  Peter’s generally wins, more out of protection for the other pick than the victory of his.

The thing is, as much as I leave that pick alone…I can’t lose it for the life of me.  I’ve tried.  Many times.  Granted, none of them purposefully.  But I’ve tried none the less.  I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve been utterly convinced that I lost it.  And it always makes me die a bit inside.  My heart sinks and I just don’t have the verbal capacity to fully realize what I’ve lost.  But it always shows up again. 

I chose to use it this week to play the double-necked dulcimer that I built for my Physics of Sound and Music class.  And after presenting the project on Friday afternoon, I stuck the pick in the front pocket of my bag, along with my phone, and headed up to the Chaplain’s office.  Along the way, my phone fell out of my bag.  When I got up to the office, I reached in for the pick, and it wasn’t there.  I nearly lost it.  The topic of this former friendship had come up several times over the past week, so all of it was at the forefront of my mind.  But after about half an hour,  I came to terms and accepted the fact that it was gone.  And that it was good to have it out of my life.  I’ve had a hell of a time moving past that friendship, and maybe I just really needed to get rid of that pick.  Maybe getting rid of all reminders of the friendship was what I needed.  Good for me for losing it, because I’d never get rid of it on my own.

And then I found it today.  Despite knowing that it was gone forever.  And I’m not one to read into things as signs from God…actually, scratch that.  I absolutely am.  In any event, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason this pick keeps showing up, after countless instances of having no hope, nor attempting to make it ever show up again.

This could be the start of something new…

For a variety of reasons, I decided that I needed to start fresh with my blog.  And, I must say, I’m pretty impressed with the tenure of my former blog.  It’s been nearly 4 years since I hopped over there, after being elsewhere for about 3 years.  Good times.  And while taking a bit of a break from blogging has been good for me, I’ve missed having an outlet.

 In any event, I’m on the verge of a new stage of life, so a new blog it is.