The Nothing Box

Bear with me

I know I just wrote about homosexuality and Christianity the other day, but I’ve got some more stuff to get off my chest, so bear with me.

First up, I’d like to thank my readers (both of you) for being either a much more tolerant or a much more apathetic lot than some of those encountered by my friend Alex.

I don’t want to go into the complications this discussion has triggered and the ways it’s hurting Alex, his wife and their kids – that’s not mine to share. But I think it’s fair to say that there’s been a swift and decisive backlash. And that backlash has come from devoutly Christian corners.

And I just don’t get it.

Maybe part of the difficulty lies in two admitted (unresearched) assumptions I’m working with.

1. Homosexuality is a state of being, rather than simply a choice. The video in my earlier post did a great job of exploring this. But, basically, up until now, my assumption on this issue has been driven by the simple question, “Who the hell would choose to put up with this BS?” (Though I’ll admit that I do believe there are plenty of people who experiment. And I’ll admit that I totally don’t get that. So, for the sake of this discussion, I’m talking about unwavering homosexuality.)
2. (I’m going to get in trouble on this one.) I believe that the Bible is the divinely inspired Word of God… But I also believe that each of those books was written down by some guy – some guy who was totally capable of error and failure. Twenty years of proofreading and editing have taught me how possible that is. And let’s also not forget that before the books of the Bible were books, they each spent hundreds of years as oral traditions. Oral traditions? Am I the only one who remembers the Telephone Game from elementary school? We couldn’t even get, “The grey bunny hops at midnight,” from one side of the room to the other over 15 minutes. And you’re saying that no errors, edits or transpositions were made over hundreds of years? I do remain totally open to the miraculous interpretation that God physically guided the hands and tongues of each of those early scribes and preachers. But I’m guardedly cynical.

The Bible is a big ol’ collection of books. And much of what’s in there seems (to me) arbitrary or contradictory. So as a follower of Christ, when I find something simple and understandable like in John 4:8 where the author says, “God is love,” I latch onto that.

When it comes to homosexuals within a Christian context, the more liberal pastors I’ve listened to are very welcoming – except, as with all things homosexual, there’s always a butt. (Sorry, that was juvenile. Couldn’t help myself!) When you ask if a person can be homosexual and Christian, the immediate response is, “Yes, absolutely! But...”

The fine print is, “As long as they’re repentant of their sins and on the road to fighting that temptation.”

(sigh)

Bottom line, for me, I guess is that I’m totally on board with the idea that we’re all broken and in need of grace. We all come up short. And the definition of “all” means homosexuals are included with the rest of us brokens.

But can’t they just be broken like the rest of us – by their greed, by their promiscuous lusts, by their sloth, by their pride…? If God is love, I have a tough time telling someone, “Your love damns you.”

Just doesn’t sound Christian to me.

Way to stir it up, Alex

I’m not a biblical scholar, so my personal comments aren’t going to dive too deeply into this issue. But this is such a fascinating topic to me and I’ve been following it off and on all day.

My friend Alex (who I actually think does qualify as a biblical scholar) stirred up the hornets’ nest this morning by posting this video on his Facebook page.

I thought the video was tremendously well done and it definitely made me think. Now, I know and respect many people who are in the “love the sinner, hate the sin” camp. But I’ve never been able to find a frame of mind that lets me believe that pure, monogamous love between two rational adults in a consenting, committed relationship can be categorized as a “sin.”

I wasted some time at work (time that I really shouldn’t have been wasting, since we’re neck deep in catalog production…but I know I’ll be more than making up the time) digging around doing some research. This site in particular seems to do a nice job of presenting calm, reasoned arguments. Not all of them seem totally convincing, but the author does make some really intriguing points.

But even more intriguing than any of the actual analysis of Scripture is this simple point:

Even when we believe the Scriptures are "infallible" or "without error," it's terribly dangerous to think that our understanding of every biblical text is also without error. We are human. We are fallible. And we can misunderstand and misinterpret these ancient words -- with tragic results.

The article is really long. But, if you have some time, it’s well worth a read. A little shorter, but no less interesting, is Alex’s eventual response to the question. I’ll include a capture here along with the comments it’s generated (as of right now). This is cut from Facebook, with the names and links to individuals deleted for privacy considerations. I also want to include my respect and admiration for Alex for posting it. Kudos, Alex, for raising a perfectly legitimate question that’s often left as the elephant in the room.

Conversation

To me, telling people that it’s okay to be who you are…as long as you never act on it – EVER – seems both ridiculous and dangerous. There have GOT to be traumatic psychological consequences to simply shutting down and amputating your sexual self. Same thing goes for the Catholic Church’s commitment to the celibate priesthood… But I’m just going to leave that can of worms half cracked here. Gotta go curl up on the couch with Corinne and watch Milk.

Everything's going to be okay?

Think back to the last time you were in a real bind. Remember?...when your ocelot desperately needed that gall bladder transplant and the world was screeching to a halt? Remember?...when your garden gnome collection caught fire in that freak electrical storm? Life, as we know it, could not go on.

Stop and think of that sensation of gut-wrenching panic. Think about how unshakably positive you were that it was all over.

Who was the unwitting, unfortunate sap who had the poor judgment to tell you, "Don't worry, everything's going to be okay?" Because you and I both know you came unglued on that stupid SOB. Right? You didn't want to hear it because you didn't believe it. Things most definitely were not going to be okay.

And that's the standard, default answer of faith, isn't it? "It'll be okay"? And it's locked in eternal combat with the standard, default answer of reason: "It's not going to work out."

Those are the two ends of the spectrum, aren't they? And they're mutually exclusive. Bad things happen and change your life forever. It's naive to think otherwise.

John 16:33 says clearly that, "...In this world you will have trouble." Even the faithful have to concede that. Of course that verse concludes with the more optimistic, "But take heart! I have overcome the world." And so people of faith are right there to tell you, "It'll be okay."

That's something that's always confused me. Are they being naive? Blindly supportive? Disingenuous?... Or is their faith misplaced?

Today in church I had one of my brief-and-rare moments of passing lucidity. When we (as people of faith) say, "Everything will be okay," we're working from an expanded definition of "okay."

Things go wrong and, "In this world you will have trouble." And as those things resolve themselves, you're going to find your life and your world in a different state. You may lose the car you're currently driving. You may not walk again. That relationship may never be repaired. Things will be different. Things may end up "harder."

If you have faith, however, you will be able to find peace in the middle of these changes. And your faith and that peace that it brings will allow you to find the blessings in your new world. They'll allow you to adapt. And, as you do, "everything will be okay."

Does God really love us? What’s Ben got to say on the subject?

 

When I was a freshman in college there was a band on campus called Big & Scary. In spring semester, I happened to be in an art class with the bass player. One day he came to class in a Big & Scary t-shirt with a testimonial quote on the back:

“Outta hand. I love these guys!”
– Bob Guccione, Penthouse

“Cool,” I noted naively. “When did Guccione see you guys?”

I still remember the shame I felt under that withering stare of incredulity. Obviously, the famed publisher of Penthouse Magazine had never seen St. Joseph, Minnesota’s most popular rock band, circa 1985.

Ever since then I’ve been just a little jaded and cynical about "quotes.” So tonight I wanted to look into one of my favorites. Did Ben Franklin really say, “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy”?

I really, really hoped he had. It’s a great quote and I wanted to believe in it. But, much like the Guccione quote, something about it just feels too good to be true.

ThinkExist.com says he did. And I’ve always kind of trusted that site.

Amy Packham thinks he said it. And she’s the Quotations Editor for BellaOnline. Quotations Editor, for Chrissake! It’s her friggin’ job, right? She should know what she’s talking about.

Even George Will – to whom I frequently ascribe genius status – has fallen into this trap. Check out this otherwise FANTASTIC article in which he manages the difficult task of misquoting the misquote. (Ben most certainly didn’t say that beer is “living proof…” Without getting into fermentation and living yeasts and such, can we all just agree that beer is not alive?)

But something still didn’t feel quite right. If he really said it, shouldn’t I be finding it somewhere in context? Where did he say it? To whom? Was he drunk?

My nagging little doubts grew to aching big doubts when I read this chunk of Ben’s autobiography. (Although, who’s to say the biography’s legit? Everyone knows the internet’s full of charlatans and con artists.)

At my first admission into this printing-house I took to working at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had been us'd to in America, where presswork is mix'd with composing. I drank only water; the other workmen, near fifty in number, were great guzzlers of beer. On occasion, I carried up and down stairs a large form of types in each hand, when others carried but one in both hands. They wondered to see, from this and several instances, that the Water-American, as they called me, was stronger than themselves, who drank strong beer! We had an alehouse boy who attended always in the house to supply the workmen. My companion at the press drank every day a pint before breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his bread and cheese, a pint between breakfast and dinner, a pint at dinner, a pint in the afternoon about six o'clock, and another when he had done his day's work. I thought it a detestable custom; but it was necessary, he suppos'd, to drink strong beer, that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored to convince him that the bodily strength afforded by beer could only be in proportion to the grain or flour of the barley dissolved in the water of which it was made; that there was more flour in a pennyworth of bread; and therefore, if he would eat that with a pint of water, it would give him more strength than a quart of beer. He drank on, however, and had four or five shillings to pay out of his wages every Saturday night for that muddling liquor; an expense I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep themselves always under. /i/

Damn. Ben didn’t even LIKE beer. Or even beer drinkers! What the hell?

And then I started finding the quote in context. Sh!t. This link sums it up pretty well. But the short version is that Benjamin Franklin actually said:

“Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.”

Seriously? Aw, crap. Not only did he not say it. Not only did he look down his nose at beer drinkers in general. It was even worse. He was a wine snob. (I love you both, Corinne and Dad.)

I’m going to choose to take a positive angle on this revelation though. Sure, Ben Franklin didn’t say it. All that really means is that the quote is available, right? So I’m calling dibs on it. Here goes:

“Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”
– Greg Skoog

Feel free to quote me on that.

Man Date

Okay, I'll acknowledge, my last two posts have been kind of a buzzkill. And, on balance, that's not what life is. So when Brad e-mailed me about going mountain biking tonight, I was totally ready. And when I found out Eric was going to join us? (See photo above: "Where are you, Eric?") Even better. Saw the forecast for 70 degrees, calm and sunny today? Decided the plan was meant to be. And then, when I got the word this morning that there was a Leinie's beer tasting going on at House of Pizza tonight, with free pizza? Are you kidding me?

Attention all who don't believe in a benevolent higher power: stand down immediately.

Took the Jail Trail tonight and made it my bitch. Caught some air. Sprayed some dirt. And, even though my beloved new bike is a shiny-but-pale (irony intended) shadow of Eric's old-but-beautiful Bianchi, it felt damn good to get it out and ride it hard.

We took about a loop and a half (7? 8 miles?), then finished up just in time to load up the bikes and hit the House before the beer tasting finished at 8. When we got there we were lucky enough to run into the owner, our good friend Brandon. Brandon joined us for a paddle of tasty Leinie's samples (Classic Amber, Summer Shandy, Creamy Dark, Berry Weiss, Sunset Wheat, and Honey Weiss) and a few complimentary slices of pizza. (See photo above, "Boards of Beers.") Then I ordered a delicious Fat Tire on my own before the Leinie's rep capped off the night by buying us a round. (I opted for a yummy Leinie's Sunset Wheat.)

We consumed our beverages over an appropriate period of time, taken up with scintillating conversation covering topics both interesting (soccer and duathlon/triathlon) and boring (motorcycle/Formula 1 racing). And, when the time had come, we said our goodbyes and headed for home so I could write my nightly blog post.

Life is good. I'm a lucky guy. (sigh)

PS: Special thanks to my wife, who did everything short of kick me out the door for my Man Date. (She's really been pushing for these, ever since we watched "I Love You, Man.")

2 much 2 do

Ah, the age-old conundrum when presented with a perfectly glorious Sunday.

Fun or productive?

So many things around here that would feel so good to have done. Two cars filled with a winter’s worth of accumulated crap. A rain garden choked with last fall’s gutter flotsam. The gasping remnants of a lawn clogged with thatch, scalded by dog urine and erupting into a pockmarked carpet of dandelions.

On the other hand, it was one of those days you wait all year for. Crystal-blue skies, 70 degrees, little wind and no mosquitoes. It was perfect. Sore as I am from yesterday’s race, a couple of hours out on the road bike sounded so tempting. Or taking the kids mountain biking? Oh man, that sounded even better.

(sigh) The eternal struggle. Which one wins? I could really see it going either way. A stressful decision like this could potentially ruin the whole day. And what a waste that would be. This, of course, called for a strategy of avoiding the whole issue by developing an Option C.

For us, Option C involved going to Emma’s first communion this morning, then inviting Christine and the kids over to hang out and grill. Standing over a smoking grill filled with curry-and-garlic-marinated chicken, sizzling brats and good old hot dogs – with the sun on my back, a beer in my hand and a ballgame on the radio – while kids and cousins bounce around and play?

Good choice.