My Blog is Moving

For anyone still out there... my blog is moving. PhD work did a number on my blogging so I've decided to start fresh. If you're interested my new site can be found here:
http://flannelnorseman.wordpress.com

Cheers!

Don Draper and the Ruins of Culture

For the past few years my wife and I have indulged in the pleasure of good television.  It all started with The Soprano's, which began a string of television series that became our evening respite.  Around 9:30, after the kids are long in bed and our work is finished, I hit the couch, she hits the recliner, and we reacquaint ourselves with our flawed TV friends.  About a month ago we finished the 4th season of Mad Men - a series set in the advertising world of the early 1960's.  While there are multiple layers to the creative show, as I watched I couldn't help think that the cultural world being re-presented was that of my grandparents.

By the time I really got to know them they were old - ancient as far as I was concerned.  There was also a sense that the world they inhabited, their way of thinking, their culture, was something to be overcome.  After all, my grandparents didn't care about computers or heavy metal music.  They laughed at the cultural content of my world as much as I laughed at theirs.  There seems to be a time when a person's cultural clock stops - when you no longer care to keep up with the technology or fashion.  For my grandparents, it seems their cultural clock was stuck in Don Draper time.  Of course now it's all back in fashion - that's the beauty of postmodernity.  Hold on to your stuff, because in about 15 - 20 years it will be back.  (My son has more Star Wars action figures than anyone I know - because my mother was wise enough to keep the stuff they gave me.  His cousin is envious...)

Last week we celebrated Christmas with my side of the family.  One morning my dad received a package in the mail - a shoebox full of old pictures from his childhood.  I'm amazed at the power of old pictures - there we sat entranced.  Some pictures were polaroids, some were black and white, most were way off center (There's an ongoing joke about the Lief inability to take a good picture... someone's head is always cut off) - but all of them evoked some form of emotion, the most common being laughter.  There was a picture of my grandpa and grandma building an outhouse... an outhouse!  There were black and white photos of my grandparents sitting around a table with cigarettes perched atop their fingers, pictures of my dad as a kid, as a teenager, even pictures of my dad getting on the bus to go to Vietnam - all dressed up in uniform.  I picked up a picture of my grandpa as a young husband and father, standing next to his family on the front step, dressed in a hat and overcoat - Don Draper style.  My dad laughed, "Looks like a mob boss doesn't he."  Yes he did... my grandpa - Tony Soprano and Don Draper all wrapped into one.

Funny, but for some reason I feel watching Mad Men has given me a glimpse into the world of my grandparents - providing a bit of context for old memories and photos.  These old pictures capture them in the midst of constructing an identity - setting trajectories for their kids and grandkids.  And they left cultural ruins... markers of a life lived.  My grandpa died 2 years ago and this thanksgiving my parents brought over some of his leftover stuff to see if we wanted any of it.  I ended up claiming some stylish Don Draper cufflinks and his wedding ring.  The ring fits perfectly so I wear it.  My parents have always commented that I'm a lot like my grandpa - usually in non-complimentary ways.  But I'm thankful for the cultural ruins he left behind - they inspire me to leave some of my own for my kids and grandkids.  I wonder - when will my cultural clock stop?  My wife would argue that it already has...

I end with a quote from Stanley Hauerwas, who cusses like my grandpa, which is why I like him.  He writes,

"For Christians, particularly in the modernitites of our time, must find the means to create space in the world if we are to serve the world in which we find ourselves.  Such a space if produced with joy hopefully will become a resource for the imagination for Christians who face quite different challenges than those that produced the ruins we now inhabit... But any ruin, be it a building, book, or painting requires memory.  That memory, moreover, must be governed by the story that is the Christ.  The peculiar challenge before us - that is, the Christians of modernity - is whether we have the resources to have our memories so determined."
                               From  "The Gospel and Cultural Formations"

The Illusionist

For the past two nights my wife and I have watched The Illusionist - an animated film about an old magician who befriends a young women as he travels from place to place.  I say two nights... because we both fell asleep the first night about half way through.  Not that the film is boring - its not - but it has a different pace to it - quiet, gentle, movements.  There is very little dialogue that is audible - the music is wonderful (yet very relaxing) and the illustrations are beautiful.  So it took us two nights - but it was worth it.

I have a 9 year old daughter who still loves, and even believes in, fairies.  She still sees the world as a magical place.  She told me the other day how "miraculous" flies are - because they could see all over.  She stills believes there is a fairy that puts streamers over her door the morning of her birthday, and she continues to build little fairy houses in the yard.  Some of her friends have moved on - to Justin Beiber of all things - which frustrates her.  She wants nothing to do with it.  (Although, she is an avid Foo Fighters fan... I caught her humming some tunage from the new record the other day... to my wife's dismay.)  When we moved back into our house I bought her a poster with Tinkerbell on it that reads, "Who says Fairies Don't Exist?"

This is what the film is about - a world that is becoming less and less magical, and a young girl who still believes.  Without giving away the ending... I found it exhilarating and heartbreaking all wrapped into one.  There is an obvious carry over to the notion of believing in God... which could easily be one of the undercurrents of the film.  At one point there appears a note that reads "Magicians are not real."  The theological connection is obvious - In a world that increasingly doesn't believe in God, or at least a certain kind of God, what about those who still believe?

My daughter will NOT believe in fairies soon enough - I'm not going to be the one to ruin it for her.  At least she still apprehends the magic of life... and it shows in the way she lives.  While Fairies may disappear - I never want her to lose the "magical" paradigm.

I loved the film - encourage everyone to see it.  Just make sure you watch it sometime when you're not sleepy - or it might take you a couple nights to get through it.

Barth and Zizek: Can they get along?

This fall I'm doing a directed study on the theological perspectives of Barth and Moltmann as a part of my PhD program.  One part of this will be comparison - seeing how they are similar and different - while the other part will be constructive.  It's the constructive part I'm excited about.  This past summer (sad to speak of summer in the past tense already...) I did a directed study on Zizek, Caputo, Vattimo, and Badiou in which I wrote a final paper putting them into conversation with Moltmann.  I found that The Crucified God shares much in common with Zizek's part of The Monstrosity of Christ.  Both rely on Hegel.  Both see the crucifixion as the death of God and the obliteration of the metaphysical articulations of God.  While there are certainly differences (important ones) - there are fascinating connections that remain to be explored.

Barth, on the other hand... I'm not sure.  Last night I started the reading for this study - focusing on book IV of the Church Dogmatics.  In a certain way I'm reading Barth through the lens of Zizek - meaning I'm looking for connections or disagreement.  I underlined a few statements last night and put Zizek's name in the margin - there are points of contact.  Barth talks about the Word as "event" - that God is known in his action, that we ultimately cannot fully apprehend or conceptualize God.  Barth talks of kenosis - he speaks of the death of God - he talks of how God, in Jesus Christ, took upon himself human weakness and vulnerability.  He even talks of how our understanding of God must be guided and reworked in the context of the life and work of Jesus Christ.  Yet... Barth doesn't want to let go of some of the metaphysical buzz words.  For someone who doesn't want to build philosophical towers to God... he doesn't seem to be able to let go of the "omnis."  In some ways it seems then that God's "being" remains untouched by the human condition.  Does this really lead to an understanding of "God with us" and "We with God" that is, in the end, very helpful?  If God's divinity - if God's person - enters the experience of humanity without really being affected by it - where does that leave us?

Maybe this will be one of the points of departure for Moltmann.  This is probably where someone like Zizek would dismiss Barth's thought... it wants to cling to the old categories of transcendence.  We'll see... should be a fun ride.

Boats and Bull$&!#

I try very hard, given my profession, to leave my critical nature at the door.  I really want to experience worship services and sermons "naively" - meaning not always filtering it through my rational faculties.  But this morning it was very difficult.  A visiting pastor at a church we were visiting for to celebrate a baptism - so really I'm not that invested.  I wanted to show up - worship - and have a good Sunday.  But when the pastor starts by, as I interpreted it, insulting the congregation - my bullshit detector when on high.  So what if they were singing out of the hymnal.  So what if the congregation had a large number of old people - what, are old people not allowed to go to church anymore?  This particular pastor was no spring chicken... 50's not that young.  Fine... get past the unfortunate beginning and settle in to hear the word of the Lord... from John Oortburg?  The fact that I just misspelled his name tells you how much I read his stuff.  I'm not that impressed.  Plus... wasn't he kind of the in thing 10 years ago? 

The text - Jesus walking on water.  The message:  Get out of the Boat.  Sigh... I remember this being a summer camp theme at least 10 years ago.  No matter - go with it.  Ok, so we're not supposed to be boat potatoes.  We're supposed to get out of the boat.  We're supposed to challenge ourselves as a church to not be boat potatoes.  The pastor wanted an interactive crowd - how I wished some of the people I knew in the congregation would have spoken up.  The fact of the matter is preachers like this don't have a frickin clue about what goes on in the lives of those sitting in the congregation.  They are not aware of the "insignificant" ways in which people minister to each other - nor do they care.  They are the ones who get hung up on the worship style or the age of the congregation - not the ones sitting in the pews.  They don't bother to find out about how some in the congregation minister to the old guy living in an old railroad car on the other side of town.  They're not concerned with the countless hours spent sitting with the alcoholic or the drug addict.  Or how the congregation ministers to those with disabilities of various kinds.  They don't take notice of the way in which single mothers are cared for... or how young people are being included.  That's because most of this ministry goes on without trumpets and fanfare.  The people who do it aren't interested in accolades - they do it out of love and charity.

Part of me wanted to stand up and say "Why don't you get off your high horse and get out of your own boat."  Maybe then you'll see the "insignificant" acts of mercy and love going on all around you.  But, of course, that doesn't make for good books or flashy messages does it. 

Home Sweet Home

On Saturday we walked into our empty house in Sioux Center and exhaled.  For one year we lived in St. Paul.  Now don't get me wrong - we loved the Twin Cities.  We met some wonderful people, established some good friendships, and enjoyed getting to know the diverse neighborhoods in both Minneapolis and St. Paul.  The problem - we lived in a 3 bedroom apartment.  3 kids... 3 bedrooms.  On top of it all - it was in campus housing.  Now... again... great people - but the problem with campus housing is it doesn't necessarily get priority in the budget.  All of this is to say we were excited to walk into our house.  It's not a mansion... it's not up to date - the carpet has a pinkish hue, the trees need trimming, and our renter decided it was a good idea to plant potatoes in our back yard.  No matter.  We can't stop grinning.  The kids have their own rooms.  We don't have to go outside when our kids want to go out to play.  We have central air.  Little things, maybe even superficial things, but today we are thankful for them.

We do miss the Twin Cities.  Yesterday I sat at a stoplight and I was the only car there - a bit different from I-94 or 35.  Its ok though... rural life is good.  Being content wherever you are - finding the good wherever you live.  It's good to be home.

Trying to Out Smart Youtube

Youtube won't let me post the videos I make - these cheesy picture slideshows.  So... I thought I would post it here.  Enjoy... or don't... its up to you.