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Matt Morin: The good gift of the game

Our guest writer is Matt Morin, a native of Milwaukee who now studies at Duke Divinity School. Before coming to seminary, Matt was a fighter in Mixed Martial Arts – a “cage fighter.” He is thinking through a number of related questions involving masculinity and gender; competition, domination and submission; classism and economic rhetoric. It’s such a joy to welcome Matt to these pages.

Last Sunday, Mark Oppenheimer wrote a piece for the New York Times in which he shared the story of a tennis player who had recently become aware of his own growing competitive streak. The article raises interesting questions about the Christian’s relationship to the world of sports—and more broadly calls attention to the ways in which each of us is formed by the widespread trope of “competition.”

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The intersection of beauty and pain: a conversation on “The Help”

The recent hit movie The Help has invited conversation across the country about race and gender relations in the South.  I invited three friends (Chalice Overy, Michelle Bullock, and Courtney Bryant) to come over and talk through their impressions.  Topics include the resonances (and differences) between aspects of this film and Toni Morrison’s Beloved and The Bluest Eye, the unwritten (and often unspoken) rules that govern interactions between people of different races in the South, and J. Kameron Carter’s reading of the film, “It Ain’t About Black Women, It’s About White Women.”

Do be forewarned that we spoil all surprises here.  Please feel free to link reviews you found helpful, and post your own perspective on the film!


vimeo Direct link: The Help

Other potentially helpful reviews to get you started:

It Helps to Be White,” Natalie Hopkinson, The Root

The Help: A Feel-Good Movie That Feels Kind of Icky,” Dana Stevens, Slate.com

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Working from hope, not fear

I wrote this piece as an op-ed over the summer, but it wasn’t quite right for a general-audience newspaper, and then I never came back to it.  

From my own home state (North Carolina), to the hub of all things cosmopolitan and progressive (New York), headlines beg for an answer to a basic question facing people who call themselves Christian.  How should we struggle over the question of same-sex marriage?  My suggestion is simple.  I appeal to my brothers and sisters in the faith to work out of a place of hope, rather than fear.

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Don’t stop believing

I had never been to a Big Rock Concert before in my life. Really. Not one. In high school I saw George Strait at the San Angelo Rodeo Hall, or rather I had been to dance with cute cowboys at George Strait concerts, but we didn’t really “see” George Strait so much as appreciate him while two-stepping. I don’t even like Journey or Foreigner, but when a friend offered me a “VIP” ticket to the concert in Raleigh and a pass for the “Meet and Greet” event beforehand, I jumped at the chance. And, dear people, it was loud. Transcendently loud. I stood in the fourth-row seating with my mouth wide open, not even daring to dance for a long while. I stood for at least fifteen minutes with my hand holding onto my sternum, feeling how my chest had music going through it, and down to my fingers and toes. (Yes, people looked at me then like I was weird.)

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