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.

A Wonderful Waste of Time

One of the things I will miss greatly when we move back to Sioux Center is our proximity to Target Field.  While we could jump on the 3 bus and be there in about a half an hour... we tend to buzz down Hennepin Ave.  - we're there in less than 15 minutes.  It's a great ride in... through the hip part of the NE Minneapolis St. Anthony neighborhood... past the Gay 90's... past the strip clubs... and we're there.  Baseball heaven.  More than once we've grabbed some pizza at Pizza Luces before or after the game... and my kids enjoy the street entertainers - this last time we saw a guy with an amplified flute playing the Twins fight song.  They were mesmerized.

Since we've been living up here I've spent time scouring Craigslist for cheaper tickets.  I must admit the sucky start to the season was a God-send for us.  Ticket prices plummeted (Minnesotans are finicky like that... the only losers they embrace are the Vikings.)  So this past Monday I found some cheap bleacher seats - front row right field.  It was a makeup game from April 22... Earth Day... so the Twins were wearing these strange green caps.  Lets just say "global warming" made an appearance.  It was hot.  Like 115 degree heat index hot.  And we were sitting on these metal bleachers literally cooking our asses off.  No matter - we had a great time.  The kids ate (and spilled) their nachos while guzzling a souvenir soda.  We watched some baseball (the Twins lost), the kids laughed at the between innings shenanigans, and we visited the gift shop to look at overpriced stuff my kids begged me to buy.  We moved around - looking for shade - finally ending up in the upper deck where some kids in front of us mercifully shot us with their water guns.  We ate some peanuts... watched more baseball... and went home.

I know baseball isn't for everyone - especially in the era of ADD and fast paced gizmos.  I realize that football and basketball have a different appeal - faster paced with more scoring.  (And I know some people think all sports are pointless...)  What baseball has, however, is a different sense of time.  It's not dictated by a clock... there's an all together different pace to it.  Baseball, by its very nature, includes a lot of wasted time.  Batters stepping out... pitchers throwing over to first... speed spiting, crotch grabbing... all taking place between the "action."  But this is what I like about it... its a chance to go sit around with my kids - wasting time - watching these spontaneously choreographed parts of the game unfold.  It provides the opportunity for weird conversations - my son asked me one time while we were watching a game if a bird has ever been hit by a baseball.  (There were some birds diving in and out of the 3rd baseline.)  So I told him about Randy Johnson obliterating a bird with a fastball.  Let's just say he obsessed about it - all the way to the 5th inning... asking question after question... his 7 year old brain piecing things together.  The next morning I showed him a clip of it... he hasn't brought it up since.

What's my point?  In an age where everything and everyone seems to be running at breakneck speed - a baseball game provides an opportunity for "wasting" a beautiful afternoon or evening at the ball park.   Target Field... we're gonna miss you.

Making Space

One of the "most excellent" (to quote Bill and Ted) aspects of doing PhD work has been becoming aware of authors and thinkers I most likely wouldn't have found on my own.  We all tend to get stuck in our little ruts - it's inevitable - and the life of an academic is probably no different.  Through my coursework I've discovered ideas and authors I wish I'd known about sooner.  In that way I can't help but always think I'm late to the party... by the time I catch on to this or that "movement" everyone else has moved on to something else.  No matter - better late then never.

One author I actually discovered on my own this past semester is the late Jesuit thinker Michel De Certeau.  I was reading through the footnotes of Cavanaugh's Theopolitical Imagination and there it was... The Practice of Everyday Life.  I quickly went on Amazon - saw it wasn't that expensive - and ordered it.  I haven't finished it yet - but what I've read thus far has been rich.  De Certeau has provided me with language for speaking about the constant struggle against the dominant forces of culture.  While global capitalism may certainly be a pervasive, homogenizing, force - De Certeau does not leave us helpless - there remains the possibility of subversive action...of making space that evades the panoptic eye of modern institutional life.  This has been helpful for thinking about a theological perspective of ministering to young people.  The tendency - and I'm certainly guilty of this in the past - has been to see young people as subject to the fatalistic forces of popular culture... that they are constantly being duped by technology and consumerism.  Some in youth ministry emphasize the need for unplugging... for moving from one form of enculturation to another - that of the Christian community.  While there are aspects of this perspective that, I would argue, still need to be taken seriously - what De Certeau has helped me think through is how many forms of popular culture are actually modes of subversion - taking what consumer capitalism gives us and turning it into something totally unexpected and challenging.  In some circles the tendency has been to look at the message of popular culture - the meaning - as a way to speak Christianly about cultural engagement.  But there is something also about the mode... the process... the alteration that needs thinking through.  This is what I've learned from De Certeau.  Now... what this means for youth ministry - we'll see... I have a dissertation to write.

As it is in Heaven

As it is in Heaven is a Swedish film about a famous composer who, after suffering health problems, decides to return to the village of his youth - a place he hasn't seen since the age of 9.  He buys the empty school building, sets up a piano, his violins, and a place to sleep.  The first person to "welcome" him was the village pastor - offering him a bible and invited him over to dinner.  As it turns out - the pastor becomes one of the primary antagonists - obsessed with sin and guilt.  The stranger, at the invitation of one of the locals who recognizes him, attends a church choir rehearsal session - and long story short - eventually agrees to become the church cantor and choir director.  The choir is made up of a cross section of the village - young, old, businessman, housewife, cognitive disability, pastor's wife - the list goes on.  As the movie progresses we find out they are all dealing significant issues and the music seems to draw out the passions and the hurts, turning choir practice into mass therapy sessions.

The film has something to say about what it means to be and do church.  On the one side is the dogmatic pastor obsessed with law and sin... and on the other the artistic choir director who, through music, opens members - as well as himself - up to life, love, and passion.  One of the more powerful scenes is a tense "conversation" between the pastor and his wife.  She, having come home from a church choir party filled with laughter and dancing, is confronted by her husband - who tells her to ask God for forgiveness.  She responds with an impassioned speech railing against sin and guilt and the propensity of the church, symbolized by her husband, to hold people captive through such things.

One scene seems to sum it up - the church is empty and mass is canceled, while many have gathered at the old school to sing and dance... in a very important sense to worship.  Once again I'm reminded of the work of Vattimo and Badiou who see in Christianity, Paul specifically, the possibility of freedom and new life.  They read Paul as a "rupture" with the status quo - breaking free from the cycle of law and violence into the event of the resurrection - the possibility of new beginning.  This, to me, is what this film is about - new beginning, life, what the church is supposed to be about as the community of the resurrected Christ.  See for yourself - I recommend the film.

Taking Vattimo and Badiou to the Basilica

I just finished reading Alain Badiou's work on Paul - Saint Paul: The Foundation of Universalism.  Funny - an atheist advocating for Christianity. I just started Zizek's The Fragile Absolute which is a similar perspective.  I must say that the ideas put forth by Vattimo and Badiou's have had an impact upon me... I keep thinking about the implications.  Both emphasize charity / love over and against dogmatic rigidity.  Badiou sees Paul as someone who is faithful to the event of Christ's resurrection - an event that proclaims new beginnings... new life.  For Badiou - the resurrection is a truth event that collapses all difference... all opinions and cultural distinctions.  It is the truly universal from which the differences found in the various situations derive meaning.  In this context Badiou focuses upon Paul's insistence that differences be overcome - "There is no Jew or Gentile - male or female."  For Badiou, Paul is an egalitarian who recognizes how the law leads to death - to the "eternal recurrence of the same thing" - to the cultivation of what he calls automatic desire... desire that arises from the law's instigation.  Here Paul's message of faith, hope, and love overcomes the law - overcomes all particularity - bringing the possibility of new life, of breaking free from the natural cycle of desire cultivated by the law, becoming open to the future.

Yesterday my family visited the Basilica (St. Mary's) here in Minneapolis.  I've been there before - on Pentecost Sunday - which was quite the spectacle (in a good way.)  Yesterday's service was a bit more subdued - but fascinating none the less.  My kids loved it - my oldest daughter asked if we could go there every Sunday because, as she put it, "this is something I could get used too..."  I understand why - there is so much to take in, so many things going on, so many different movements - and of course the "smells and bells" are something she hasn't experienced very much.  As I experienced the service I couldn't help but think of Vattimo and Badiou.  I thought of the Basilica's work in the neighborhood on behalf of the poor, I thought of the various ethnic groups gathered together under the dome, I thought of the number of gay and lesbian attendees given it was Gay Pride weekend and the parade route went right by the church - I thought of all of these things in the context of Vattimo's "weak thought" and charity, and Badiou's universalist Paul.  I have to say - it was a fascinating way to interpret a worship service... even if I can't go with Vattimo and Badiou the full way.

The homily, however, was certainly not in the vein of Vattimo and Badiou.  It was the feast of Corpus Christi - so the homily was on the Eucharist.  Very metaphysical... emphasizing the Eucharist as the bodily presence of Christ.  In one way the priest acknowledged it as something that cannot be explained - there was no lecture on transubstantiation.  But in the end... it seemed to cut off us protestants... putting up a boundary, a dividing line, where Badiou might say Jesus and Paul emphasized unity.  What should I expect - it's a Catholic Church (of course they're going to emphasize Catholic teaching) - and to be fair the homily was not bad... he delivered it well and there were parts that I could very much agree with.  My critique, if it is one, is the result of taking these late modern philosophers to church with me... which is, I suppose, the purpose of getting an education.

The End is Near

No... this is not a Harold Camping type prediction of the rapture - unless by rapture you mean picking up and moving stuff back to Sioux Center.  Yesterday I took the first step in our move back - I brought home some boxes.  I even started packing away the books in my office I haven't used since I've been here.  There is a sense of happiness (we can't wait to get out of this 3 bedroom compressor / apartment and back into our house) along with some sadness (we have enjoyed exploring the Twin Cities.)

In many ways city life has fit us well.  Tamara doesn't mind driving in traffic - and she has found about every swimming hole one could find... and that's quite a few around here.  We've hit some Twins games, museums, and... as some will notice on me when I return... some excellent eateries.  Juicy Lucy has been my friend and enemy - eating bar food and sitting for long periods of time reading and writing is NOT a good combination.  Some of our favorite places to eat:  Matt's Bar, Jakeeno's Pizzeria, Pizza Luce, Mannings, Keys, and Aurelios (There's a definite Pizza theme...).  We've also enjoyed the parks and bike trails... which is badly needed after the above discussion.  Needless to say - we will miss what the Twin Cities has to offer.

That being said... there is something about rural life that I enjoy and look forward to.  I don't how many times I've had to "defend" living in Sioux Center - there's this weird compulsion found in some suburb dwellers we've encountered to rail against rural life - especially Northwest Iowa living.  I'm not exactly sure what they are compensating for... or why they think sitting their butts in the suburbs is some bastion of exotic urban living.  (A Target or Wal-Mart is a Target or Wal-Mart... we do have them in Northwest Iowa.)  I don't need someone who has never lived in Sioux Center to tell me what sucks about Sioux Center.  Believe me... I know.  But I also know what is good about Sioux Center living - and believe me there are good things about living there.  For now, I look forward to mowing my lawn... to sitting on my deck with a cigar... to sitting outside the Fruited Plain and having a good bottle of beer... to letting my kids go outside to play and not really worrying one bit.  I look forward to warm, muggy, summer afternoons - to the smell of tasseling corn, and to being the only car on the road for as far as the eye can see.  I look forward to the Mexican bakery (Olivia's) and the jalapeno bread that will keep me fat.

Will I miss the Twin Cities?  You betcha.  I've wanted to live here since I was a kid living in Willmar.  Something tells me I'll be back some day... but for now we are happy and content to make our home in Sioux Center, Iowa.  Lucy will just have to move on without me.

Weak Thought

I'm usually late to the game when it comes to philosophy - and I'm sure this is no exception.  I just finished reading Vattimo's After Christianity and Caputo's The Weakness of God.  I can't say the ideas they expressed were entirely new to me - it seems, after reading them, that I've been moving toward a "weak theology" my entire teaching career.  I'm thankful for both Vattimo and Caputo's work as they provide a way of organizing what I've been trying to articulate for a while.  Not that I buy everything they say - I definitely have some questions and push back - but overall they were a joy to read.

The problem is that I'm immersed in a tradition that wants so badly to erect "strong theology."  The world needs to be organized, categorized, and everything needs to be in its proper order.  The sovereignty of God, natural law, and double predestination become conceptual tools that not only provide a means for domesticating God, but they become the means for determining who is and who is not a part of the Kingdom of God.  Social and economic institutions become the means for ensuring the kingdom comes efficiently and with gusto.

So what of weakness?  What of kenosis?  What about, as Vattimo emphasizes, charity?  This past year I spent my Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons at a new high school in south Minneapolis - Cristo Rey Jesuit High School.  I spent my time with young people like Juan, and Hugo, and Jesstine.  These are young people who have been through quite a bit already - more than some of us will see in a lifetime.  What I sensed from them, despite their difficulties and through their triumphs, was an undercurrent of charity.  Its almost as if they had no choice but to be charitable -  there seemed no other way to navigate the messiness of life.

My experience at Cristo Rey has forced me to wrestle with the tendency within the Calvinist tradition to construct "strong theology."  At Cristo Rey I was invited into the lives of young people - into a realm where gang violence, homelessness, domestic abuse, and teenage pregnancy were a part of the everyday lives of students.  "Strong theology" leaves no space in which to encounter the lived experience of others.  "Strong theology" always has a plan... a strategy... the answers.  What I learned at Cristo Rey was an important lesson in "weak theology" - a theology that is grounded in charitable love and the embrace of differences.  I still hold to my tradition... I still call myself a Calvinist... because I believe in the end that Calvinism and what Caputo calls "weak theology" are not antithetical as so many seem to presuppose.  This will be, I think, the theological task I take from my experience at Cristo Rey - to explore the common ground between the "weak theology" necessary for the Christian community to live out the gospel in the world of differences and the biblical and theological insight provided by the Calvinist tradition.  Don't ask me how... I'm not quite there yet.