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Posts from the ‘Ethics’ Category

Born to Be Brave: Resisting a Culture of Domination

I have avoided this tangled snarl of questions and observations for four reasons.  1) 9/11 is a lose/lose topic.  There is no way to speak without offense.  2)  I have run into some friction when I have suggested that U.S. sponsored torture has anything to do with race.  To suggest that anything that is not obviously, blatantly, unqualifiedly about race is, nonetheless, partly about race, is risky.  I cannot prove my points here; I can only try to write my perceptions clearly.  3)  There is little encouragement generally in the Christian world for feminist readings of popular culture.  (Ditto above regarding lack of proof.)  4) I am still sorting through some fundamental, theological questions that emerged during the anti-torture conference.  Hopefully something here is of use. 

I heard a radio interview about trends in American television with Kathleen Turner recently.  She has been on my imaginative radar ever since someone left a copy of this newspaper article on my doorstep last summer.  Two things strike me most about Turner.  She is not afraid of her sexuality, and she is not afraid of being perceived as a bitch.  She is, as the NYT piece explains, a “broad.”  Turner is now on stage playing another one of my favorite broads, investigative reporter and political writer (and fellow Texan) Molly Ivins.  The radio interviewer noted that there seems to be something of a trend here, in that another brazen Texas woman, Ann Richards, was the subject of a one-woman play last year.  Could it be that tough chicks are now chic?

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Fight for your Right to Daaaaadddyyy! The Art of Fatherhood, MCA, and Wild Things

This Father’s Day, we celebrate my Dad’s retirement from 47 years of ministry in the United Methodist Church.  He has been the spiritual abba for three generations of children, from Sparrowbush, New York to Rhome, Texas.  A few days ago, a room full of Methodist clergy in the Southwest Texas voted to allow him to retire. (Methodists vote on everything.)

At the same meeting, we held a group of brand new clergy to a set of rules that are just plain odd.  (The questions Methodist pastors have to answer about “being made perfect” are strange enough for a post all their own.)  For this post, I want to note that the Methodist rules contain at least two promises not to “trifle,” and several promises to perform “diligence.”  My bishop’s favorite rule is “Will you diligently instruct the children in every place?”  He asks this of the candidates each year with notable verve.  John Wesley was all about diligence, and he had no patience for anything that whiffed of trifle.  I think he was off the mark, because good fathers, and good pastors, have to learn to waste serious time if they are going to instruct children.

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Who is my neighbor’s child? Trayvon Martin and Parenthood’s Future

One of the most existentially chilling discoveries during my research on eugenics for Conceiving Parenthood was how many beloved progressives had taken up the eugenic mindset.  Reformer Jane Addams, Rev. Harry Emerson Fosdick of the Riverside Church, Margaret Sanger, even the stalwart union activist Father John Ryan each, for a time, accepted eugenics.  How did this happen?  As Jean Bethke Elshtain narrates in her intricate treatment of Jane Addams, Addams came to see the women she was helping more as kin than as charity, and other on-the-ground reformers rejected top-down eugenic schemes after a time.  But, for others, their mistake was clumsy thinking.  People intent to “do good” get busy, and we sometimes lend aid or legitimacy to a notion or movement that we would not, with more thought, endorse. Especially in the case of Father John Ryan, it appears that perhaps he was not paying terribly close attention to the aims of the organization to which he was lending his good name.  (As I relate in my book, Ryan’s concise case against eugenics in one pamphlet was one of the most compelling I found in all my digging.)

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Flipping off Love, Football, and Apple Pie . . .

Valentine’s Day is a stupid extension of the Disney Princess Apostasy, yet I still want to be swept off my feet (or at least to have my feet rubbed.)  But before I get started on love, I need to vent about football.

A West Texas Youth Group Favorite: Mix 1 lb Velveeta (cut into 1" cubes) and 1 can (10 oz) Ro-Tel in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave 5 minutes.

I missed the Superbowl this year. Growing up in Texas, the Superbowl youth party was a Tradition on par with “O, For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.” The holy elements are uncontested: Velveeta and Rotel in a crock pot, little sausages in bright red barbecue sauce, and so many peanut M&M’s we’d make ourselves sick. It did not matter who was playing.  By the logic of the land: Football is Good; Bad Football is Football; hence, Bad Football is Good Football.  But this year I had a sick daughter, so I missed the Ferris Bueller car ad and all the hullaballoo surrounding the Bridgestone Half-Time Show. Read more

ALH on NC Amendment 1

I was very honored that David Crabtree asked me again to weigh in as an LGBTQ ally.  I had read over some of Rev. Wooden’s previous interviews, and I decided ahead of time not to enter a theological or scriptural debate on the issue.  It seemed to me that we were likely to end up with a Bible Boy/Gospel Girl face-off, and Gospel Girls rarely win that way.  Some readers may be disappointed with this decision, but, well . . . remember the gender and race dynamics of even the supposedly “New South” and think through how you would have had me engage instead.  This is all just really, really tricky, dear people, and what we truly need is the kind of sustained, long term solidarity-building conversations that come only with effort, patience, trust, tacos, and pecan pie.  On a totally frivolous note, I am wearing the blouse I bought for my (failed, thank God) interview for the senior ethics post at Yale.  Only it used to be white, and I wore it then with a boring, blue pinstripe suit (snore, but, hey, it was Yale, after all).  I accidentally spilled food down it at some point, and decided this summer to dye it bright fuchsia.  I think it looks much better this way!

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