Michele Bachmann and Religion

Sarah Posner says “it’s complicated” and that the media can’t get it right. In a post at Religion Dispatches, Posner points out the multiple influences on Bachmann’s worldview, including the Wisconsin Synod denomination to which she used to belong. But there are many more influences:

But Bachmann is more of a mishmash: a Lutheran moved by Francis Schaeffer to get involved in conservative politics, who attended a law school founded by a Pentecostal and a Christian Reconstructionist; an alumna of the “Christian worldview” education that teaches that Christianity is on a collision course with other “worldviews,” including secularism, Islam, and post-modernism; an anti-public school activist who homeschooled her own children; an anti-gay rights activist; and now, a crusader against the “tyranny” of “big government” and “socialism.” She’s a product of all of those strands of church, political activism, and “worldview” training; she’s like a crucible of the religious right zeitgeist. And that’s why an ex-Lutheran-turned-we’re-not-sure-what can speak at an Assemblies of God church while running for president and wow the people in the pews. Or not. Because it’s complicated.

Posner points out how the “progressive” media gets her wrong, from Think Progress, to Salon, to Mother Jones.

The Fourfold Franciscan Blessing

May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.

May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.

May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God’s grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.

h/t Richard Beck

Jacob was a good Christian man–not! A Sermon for Proper 11, Year A

July 17, 2011

I have college professor friends who amuse themselves and us by keeping track of the most outrageous things students write on essay papers and exams. I never did such things, in large part, because writing such things down took time away from grading. So only a few such statements stand out in my fifteen years of teaching. And perhaps the most outrageous, absolutely, incorrect things I ever read was the opening sentence of an essay exam, “Jacob was a good Christian man.” Continue reading

More on Religion and Politics

Nick Knisely ponders the issue of the role of clergy in politics by means of two essays written by Episcopal priests. Both of them are struggling with their public role as priest (or canon, or bishop), partisan politics, and hot-button issues. Dan Webster writes:

But matters of justice, matters that have an impact on the poor, hungry, the imprisoned and the stranger need to be addressed by church leaders in the pulpit, online, in the media and wherever else we can proclaim Gospel values.

For an alternative perspective, read Ed Kilgore’s piece on the connections between the Religious Right and the Tea Party. He writes of televangelist James Robison:

In other words, to Christian Right leaders like Robison, it appears that both Keynsian economics and tax increases have become “as wrong and immoral as stealing.” As with his attacks on judges that let bureaucrats help people who have failed to live up to God’s eternal standards, he sounds like an incongruous Christian Ayn Rand.

The St. Francis house brouhaha

I’ve had several inquiries from parishioners about what’s happening with St. Francis House, the Episcopal Chaplaincy at UW Madison, and decided it was time to offer my perspective. I’ve been a member of the board since early 2010. When I joined, discussions about the future of the chaplaincy were well underway. The chaplaincy had been funded by an endowment that over the last decade or more has been depleted in order to meet expenses. The building itself is in need of several hundred thousand dollars of deferred maintenance. Clearly, we were approaching a crisis.

At the end of its visioning process, the board concluded that the chaplaincy’s physical presence on UW’s campus was of vital importance and that we should do whatever we could to ensure that presence. We are also convinced of the importance of college chaplaincy to the future of the Episcopal Church. Such programs have served as the incubator for the church’s future leadership, and St. Francis House is no exception. We believe Anglicanism is a unique and powerful witness to the Christian faith that resonates with young people in an academic setting.

The chaplaincy’s greatest asset is its property, located on the heart of UW Madison’s campus. A number of options for moving forward were considered, including some sort of joint-venture development with our Lutheran neighbors. After exploring the possibility of an outright sale of the property, the board decided to move forward with a public/private partnership with a private developer. The plan is to demolish the 1964 chapel, move the historic building to the corner of the lot, and build an L-shaped student apartment complex on the remainder of the property. This portion of the property would return to the property tax rolls, and income from the project would place the Episcopal Chaplaincy on firm financial ground.

There has been lively debate on the board about the importance of having a physical presence on campus; in the end, the option to sell the property seemed shortsighted. It is also the case that an outright sale would not generate enough income to pay for the sort of chaplaincy envisioned by the board.

Bishop Miller wrote a letter on May 15 that captures the board’s reasoning and also speaks eloquently to the importance of campus ministry. He wrote:

Strengthening Campus ministry and the funding for it has been one of my priorities as bishop because it was through the Episcopal Ministry at Michigan State University I discovered The Episcopal Church and found a spiritual home. Over the last few years I have worked with our chaplains, the St. Francis House Board, and our diocesan convention to strengthen and restore this ministry. Each week a faithful community gathers for prayer, fellowship, and study at our home at 1001 University Avenue. Over the past eight years the ministry at St. Francis House has produced some great future leaders of our church including one candidate for ordination, and two others who are now exploring the possibility of ordained ministry while serving as missioner of the Episcopal Service Corps.

The full letter is here: bishopsletter.

The City Planning Commission rejected the proposal at its meeting this week. There has been vocal opposition from our neighbors at Luther Memorial Church. It is unfortunate that this conflict has arisen. Bishop Miller, the board, and the developers have worked hard to assuage any concerns our neighbors might have. In the end, however, our primary obligation is  to strengthen the mission and ministry of the Episcopal Chaplaincy at UW.

Who knows what will happen next but the board remains committed to this project and the promise it holds for empowering Episcopal campus ministry in the coming decades.

For background reading here are relevant articles from the Madison State Journal

Politics and Religion, Nutty edition

In this case, I’m not sure who’s nuttier, the politician or the author of the article.

Exihibit A. An article entitled “Michele Bachmann’s Church says the Pope is the Antichrist,” citing this from the Wisconsin Synod Lutheran doctrinal statement:

Since Scripture teaches that the Antichrist would be revealed and gives the marks by which the Antichrist is to be recognized, and since this prophecy has been clearly fulfilled in the history and development of the Roman Papacy, it is Scripture which reveals that the Papacy is the Antichrist.

Somewhat less inflammatory, the article points out that Martin Luther was convinced the Pope was the Antichrist, and that such statements are enshrined in sixteenth-century doctrinal formulations.

Perhaps the headline writer didn’t read far enough into the article to notice that:

Hochmuth also revealed that Bachmann is no longer a member of the WELS congregation. “I do know that she has requested a release of her membership,” he said, adding that she took the unusual step of formally requesting that release in writing. “She has not been an active member of our fellowship during the last year.”

Exhibit B. An article describing the links between the Religion of the Lost Cause, Christian Reconstructionism, and neo-Confederate groups like the League of the South. Texas Governor Rick Perry is implicated because his candidacy for Lieutenant Governor was endorsed by the League of the South, he once advocated Texas’ secession from the Union,  and this:

Perry is hosting a prayer rally because “a historic crisis facing our nation and threatening our future demands a historic response from the church.” Does he see himself as a general of sorts in the neo-Confederate theological war?

More on the links between Perry and neo-confederates here. I don’t think a photo op of a Southern governor with members of the Sons of the Confederate Veterans constitutes a smoking gun.

Two essays about death

Dudley Cledenin, former national correspondent for the NY Times, writes about his impending death due to ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) and his desire to die well.

In the Guardian, Sabine Durrant writes about Nell Dunn’s play Home Death, which was written after the death of Dunn’s partner Dan Oestreicher, who wanted to die in dignity at home. However:

Oestreicher was visited by five national health professionals – four district nurses, one doctor – in his last 24 hours, but none of them seemed trained to deal with a home death. When Nell woke in the early hours, she realised Dan was dying. His lungs were bubbling; he was panicking – he felt he was drowning – and in pain. She couldn’t ring for an ambulance because they would take him to hospital and he didn’t want that. She had four phone numbers, including one for a hospice, but when she rang she was told to ring back after 8.30am; when she called again it went straight to answerphone. Her doctor’s surgery was closed. There was no morphine. A district nurse came, gabbled into her mobile phone inches away from Dan’s ear, a doctor, another nurse. No one knew where to find an open chemist. “I know it was a Sunday, but people die on a Sunday for God’s sake.” There was irritation from the doctor who visited, tactlessness: “I’m being paid well for this.” Finally, late morning, everyone dispersed and Nell and Dan were left alone. She lay next to him on their bed. He came in and out of consciousness and at 1.30pm, their dog Primrose beside him, he died.

The nurse returned with the morphine at 4pm. She had been gone for five hours. Was she embarrassed? “I don’t know. I didn’t let her in.”

Dying well–the notion reminds me of the ars moriendi  of the medieval period, a genre of devotional literature that encouraged Christians to prepare for death, making a proper final confession, so they could be certain of a successful passage into purgatory. But there’s something else here, too–the desire to have control over how one ends one’s life. That’s certainly the case in Clendenin’s piece. It also seems to be some of the motive behind the assisted suicide movement. Those who are opposed to such things often criticize people like Clendenin for aspiring to self-sufficiency. He points out how he ministered at the end of life to his mother and other relatives, and that he wishes to spare his beloved daughter that experience. But has he asked her?

I don’t have answers to the questions raised by these essays, to the question of assisted suicide, or even to the question of human dignity, whether it be in the sickbed or at end of life. Posing the questions is hard enough.

Tree of Strife: A Jewish Take on Tree of Life

A thoughtful and engaging essay on “Tree of Life” from a Jewish perspective. Liel Liebowitz explores the conflict between nature and grace, going all the way back to Augustine and Pelagius. More interestingly, he observes that cinema is a “profoundly Jewish art form. On celluloid film and in Jewish spirituality, there’s no room for grace: One is always the hero of one’s own story, and one must always redeem oneself.”

More:

Herein lies Malick’s true genius: As The Tree of Life ends and we file out of the theater, we are left—if our legs and our minds aren’t too numb from all those gasses and Cretaceous creatures milling about—contemplating not only creation but also creators. On the former front, Malick is a committed Catholic, and he bravely surrenders his characters to higher powers. On the latter front, he is far more radical. His quote from Job isn’t accidental. Read it before you’ve seen the movie, and it’s a Catholic exhortation on man’s eternal dependence on God’s good grace. Read if after, and it’s almost a Jewish teaching, shedding light not on man’s wretchedness but on God’s: Just as man cannot know the creator, the creator can never really share man’s earthly delights and is condemned to eternity in a lonely celestial prison cell.