Fault Line: More of a Generational Shift than a Culture War

I don't usually write about politics and religion on the internet.

Why?

Because the intersection of the two topics is a quagmire section of the information superhighway frequented by those who want to shout their opinions and those who want to read their own opinions written by other people. It's most frustrating because authors continually posit themselves as experts in fields in which they have no formal training. I am all for voicing one's opinion, especially if that is a deeply-held conviction or moral. But what we're often shown are ill-constructed, poorly-written articles disguised with political jargon, semi-academic wording, or religious underpinnings ripped from their contexts.

Finding articles that espouse a well-thought-out, researched, and logical argument regarding the cross-roads of politics and religion is... well... difficult. However, when Rachel Held Evans' How to win a Culture War and Lose a Generation was pointed out to me, I had to take note.

Apparently, I wasn't alone.

Evans' article has caused all sort of backlash. From scathing criticism, to not-so-scathing criticism, to criticism veiled as rising above itself. To be frank, these articles all miss the point.

Andrew Haines' "Integral Ethics: Why 'Social Issues' are the Only Sort that Matter" is a case study in problematic internet expertise (despite the fact that he's getting said formal training). While Haines tries to  hide behind his verbosity, his inability to see how contradictory his statements are (see: cognitive dissonance) isn't lost on John "Fitz" Fitzgerald, who rightly calls Haines on the carpet.

The problem that all three response articles suffer from is that they all speak as though they represent the entirety of Christianity. They pretend that there is one voice on the issue of LGBT rights with which every sect of Christianity agrees. I know quite a few Episcopalians and Anglicans who would take issue with this idea. Which leaves Haines et al with the uneasy prospect of declaring other Christians to be not just wrongly convinced on an issue, but unChristian altogether. Fitzgerald sees this, and his closing paragraphs nail it.

The flip-side of this problem is what Evans gets right. She doesn't once state that she's speaking on behalf of one denominational sect of Christianity, let alone the whole of the Christian world. Evans is voicing what her (and my) generation are saying. The evangelical youth are surprisingly vocal about LGBT issues - and they're speaking out in contrast to what they're parents' generation is saying.

Haines snidely asks:

"As an aside: where on earth is Evans meeting young Christians that 'all' of them say these sorts of things?"

While every single one might not be saying this, I know exactly where Evans is meeting these young Christians. She's meeting them on the campuses of the top Christian colleges across America.

She's meeting them here, and here, and here, and here. And those are just four examples of a growing list of LGBT organizations at Christian colleges, which are gaining courage to speak, and momentum with their peers.

Even if we take David Sessions' smart advice to question the idea of "Culture Wars", and eliminate the idea of this being a culture war from our thinking, we are left with something monumental. We are left with a striking generational shift. We are left with, as Evans puts it "Christians over 40...celebrating. Christians under 40...mourning" when political happenings such as Amendment One occur. This generational shift has immense potential.

Potential to either reform Evangelical Protestant America, or potential to rip the American church in two - cleft right down the generational tectonic fault line.

Sessions is right - Christians should ditch the culture war paradigm. But before Christians begin to talk about some sort of "united stance" on LGBT issues, Generations V and W should figure out how they are going to deal with Generations X and Y. Because pretending like there is one solid and universal Christian view on this topic is farcical.

It is no longer acceptable - in fact, it's no longer the norm - for Christian communities to suggest that Christians feel one way about LGBT rights. It should never have been acceptable for Christianity to become equated with "anti-homosexuality" to the vast majority of American youth (as quoted by Evans). This stereotype, and the reality it is based in, need to change.

It's shaping up to look like young Christians want to change this stereotype. The question now is whether this generational shift will become accepted and embraced by "Christians over 40", or whether that generational fault line will start cracking.

Fahrenheit 451

-To Terry Jones and the Dove World Outreach Center

For the non-German-speaking population, it reads:

"Where they burns books, they will end up reading bodies"

The plaque rests at the edge of Babelplatz in Berlin, the site of the Nazi book-burning rallies.

The quote was originally spoken by Henrich Heine in 1820

Friends Should Never Discuss Politics or Religion...

So this is me discussing both:

http://rationalrevolution.wordpress.com/2010/08/09/mosque-at-ground-zero-getting-the-full-story/

I was honored to be asked by one of my best friends to write for his new blog. The project is meant to inform and open-the-eyes of the reader to push people to live smarter and fuller lives by understanding the world around them.

It took me a long time to figure out just what I wanted to put up, and then to write the actual article. That being said, I am really excited about the way it turned out, and I hope that it sends out the message that I was trying to portray.

Leviathan...

Excerpt from Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan, page 263

Liberty and Necessity are Consistent; As in the

water, that hath not only liberty, but a necessity of

descending by the Channel: so likewise in the

Actions which men voluntarily doe; which (because

they proceed from their will) proceed from liberty;

and yet because every act of mans will, and every

desire, and inclination proceedeth from some cause,

and that another cause, which causes in a

continuall chaine (whose first link in the hand of

God the first of all causes) proceed from necessity.

So that to him that could see the connexion of

those causes, the necessity of all mens voluntary

actions, would appeare manifest. And therefore

God, that seeth, and disposeth all things, seeth also

that the liberty of man in doing what he will, is

accompanied with the necessity of doing that which

God will, & no more, nor lesse. For though men

may do many things, which God does not com-

mand, not is therefore Author of them; yet they

can have no passion, nor appetite any thing, of

which appetite Gods will is not the cause. And did

not his will assure the necessity of mans will, and 

consequently of all that on mans will dependeth,

the liberty of men would be a contradiction, and

impediment to the omnipotence and liberty of God.

And this shall suffice, (as to the matter in hand) of that 

naturall liberty, which only is properly called liberty.

 I have a political theory class this semester, and we are reading some of the great minds of the Enlightenment and forward. I was excited about the book list, but the actual reading is rough. I have been putting my favorite quotes up on my twitter (@kuwalker) as they catch my eye. 

But this one was different. The debate on Freewill vs Predestination has haunted me for quite some time. I've dismissed it for a while, calling it a "learn nothing" debate that only caused Christians to get mad at each other. Not exactly fruitful. Despite my efforts at cooling this debate, however, it popped its head up at various times whilst I was bounding across Europa. Then, just when I think I've escaped, who comes along with a wonderful quote that explains things rather nicely (albeit hard to read because of the Old English)? 

Thomas Hobbes.

Oh Murphy's Law, you never fail.

Ireland; Four More Attempts

Hmm...shall we get into the real depths of the Emerald Isle?

Can I just reiterate how much I love that place.

First of all, we stayed in the Shire. No exaggeration. The Shire. It was incredible. I thoroughly enjoyed sitting and reveling in the green. It was such a stark contrast from the yellows, browns, and blacks that I have become accustomed to, sad as that thought is. We went shopping at a massive grocery store before we got to the Cottages and I bought as authentically as I could for the week. Let's just say that there is nothing like sitting on an ancient, creaky, wooden picnic table watching sheep on the side of the Mourne Mountains while slowly munching sausage, cheese, eggs, and soda bread, washed down with some Irish Breakfast tea.

It's easy to see God in moments like that. He must enjoy the Irish countryside as much as I did, because he seemed present everywhere. Especially at the monastery we had class at. The place was phenomenally beautiful. One of the only buildings I've ever seen and thought Ah! Contemporary architecture can be just as beautiful as architecture of old.

Then.

I went to a service there. (Yes, this is skipping a bit, but that's fine) It was lead collectively by the six monks who live at the Monastery. One would lead in the hymns, one had a sermon, one the reading of the Gospel. Each man demanded respect in his own unique way, and yet they worked together to make an enriching and powerful service. Think of it like a tapestry. The small pictures and designs can be intricate and beautiful, but the entire thing is what is breath-taking and majestic.

So, clearly, God lived in Rostrever. He was apparent everywhere, but there were places he seemed very far from.

We spent a day touring Belfast. Mainly in a bus, which took a bit away from the experience, but not much. I knew some of the history of the Troubles. I understood the division (mostly), and had heard of the murals and the violence. Really, I knew nothing. Everything I thought I knew was shot to hell when I stood under the Union Jack looking across the street to buildings covered in Green and Orange. When you stare face to face with a "peace wall" that has the names Israel, Palestine, Nicosia, and Berlin carved into it as its "sister places".

That will haunt you.

So will the murals. There are plenty of them. Around every street corner it seems. It's so strange to see something that honors men in black hoods with Kalashnikovs. It's even weirder to see that mural painted above a grocery store. And then to think that the very people the wore the masks because of live 2 blocks away, and are honored by their own loyal friends just the same.

Now, on top of all of that, do it in the name of religion.

But really, its not about the religion. Protestantism and Catholicism don't really have anything to do with it. It's all about politics.

There is some redemption in Belfast, though. There are glimmers of hope. The city itself is improving (read: rebuilding), and is on its economic feet. The Troubles have technically been over since 1998, and this is most apparent in the citizens. I had heard that the "new" generation (my generation) was trying to avoid the troubles. Trying to distance themselves from it all. I actually had an encounter that displayed this pretty well:

I was walking alone through the Belfast airport waiting for our flight out to Amsterdam (Yup, I jumped around again. This is not in chronological order at all. Think of it as a Tarintino movie). I was heading towards the airport coffeeshop (read previous posts to find out how much I enjoy these two things put together). A rather attractive Irish lass caught my attention by asking if I was interested in learning about the Bank of Ireland. I stumbled with my words at first. Originally, I was quite excited that a local thought that I was Irish, and then I realized that I was going to have to tell her I was from the States, and thus, I needed to have no accent (I pick them up extremely easily. Especially inflection. Especially when talking to locals. So this was rather difficult to do). So, I told her and her co-worker (who was later revealed to be her mother) that I couldn't exactly join the Bank of Ireland, and yada yada yada. We got to talking, mainly because people really want to know where you are from in the States if you talk with them. They didn't know Colorado, and the conversation turned into me trying to explain the difference between "mountain people" and "hillbillies". Oye. (there's a point to this, I swear). Then I was asked about why I was in Ireland (to study), if I had any Irish family (yes, to which I was told "oh yeah, all you Americans do"), and what I had seen in Belfast. At this point the mom left the kiosk we were talking at (relevant, I swear). The girl asked if I had seen "the murals, and all that stuff". I tried to be as polite and politically correct about it and just said yes, that I had. And that was it. She said something like "cool", and the conversation went on. A bit later, her mom returned, and proceeded to ask me the same question. Once again, I tried to be polite: "Yeah, we saw them on our tour".

"Well, which ones did you prefer? The Green ones, or the Red, White, and Blue ones?"

I froze. There was no real way to answer this question properly. I told her that I liked the Green ones better. I did this half trying to gauge which she would prefer herself, and half being honest (politically, I'm a bit more of a nationalist. I love Ireland so much I think it should just be its own entity completely. However, I understand the nationalistic point-of-view and its political necessity all the same. But I digress...). I chose wrong. She upturned her face and asked me why. I then realized I needed to save myself from looking like a stupid, knows-nothing-about-what-actually-happens-here American, and say something other than "I like those colors better", and I still hadn't quite caught her affiliation yet. So, naturally, I said something that made me look like a stupid, doesn't-know-anything-that-actually-happens-here American. I opened my mouth and out came "Well, the Green ones we saw were less violent than the Red, White, and Blue ones".

I got a Northern Irish death glare. Do yourself a favor and never, ever get one of these. She said "On no! That's totally backwards. Those Greens ones are so much worse." Welp. Nice going. Foot so far into mouth. She leaned in close and whispered "The Red, White, and Blue ones. Remember that." Then left. Yikes. I felt awful. I ended up apologizing later to her daughter "if I had said anything too offensive, or come across as an uninformed American", she assured me that everything was fine. I ended up seeing the mom later, and she was perfectly nice again (It was only later that I realized that I should have said that I liked the Greens better cause I am a fan of Celtic. That would have saved me some trouble).

Later, I realized that these two had perfectly epitomized the Troubles. The older generation not only cared about it enough, but she went out of her way to find out what I thought about it, and then proceeded to tell me how wrong I was. However, when it came to working, she pushed my uninformed opinion out of the way and was more than cordial again. The new generation didn't care about it at all. She just asked if I had seen the murals and then moved on. It's the classic "yeah, that's part of our past" mindset. It's incredible what you can glean from a simple airort conversation.

The Irish are a fascinating people.

Speaking of which (I promise this is almost over. éire just has a lot of good stories to offer.), let me flesh out Ned and the Five Attempts. The day before we went to Belfast, we traveled down to the Republic (see. Tarintino.). I was so excited. Dublin. Dublin! Giddy is an appropriate word. We go there and toured Kilmainham jail. Which is fascinating. You may recognize it from various U2 music videos or recordings, it has incredible acoustics. Then, we were on our own for the rest of the day.

Naturally, five of the guys headed quick for the Guinness Stockhouse. It was a really decent walk from where we were, which was perfect, because we got to see a good chunk of Dublin in a short amount of time. We went from the university area, to a shopping square, to churches, and finally to a rather depressed neighborhood before we reached the Stockhouse. I look back on this now as such a blessing, because most people only stayed around the shopping district. Then, the factory was lovely. Just a very well done tourist attraction. Top it off (literally and metaphorically) with the best view in Dublin. The top floor is called the Gravity Bar, where you can claim your "free" (with admission) pint straight from the brewery. 8 minutes from brew to glass.

So, take quite possibly the best beer you will ever have. Add four friends who are loving every second as much as you. Then finish with a 360 degree view of the town you've wanted to see your whole life. That, right there, is life.

Back to the Irish people. After the tour, we headed to a pub on the way back to the bus. We were treated exceptionally well. The owner of the bar (the previously mentioned Ned) sat us himself, asked us where we were from, and actually cared to listen to what we had to say. He took our orders, and had a witty, Irish quip for everything we said. Perfect. We, naturally, ordered Guinness with our meal. Ned then told us of how he had worked for the company for forty years before opening the pub we were then sitting at. Clearly the man knew his Guinness (I asked him if it comes straight from the factory. His reply: "Rolled it here meself this marnin'!" There's Irish humor for you). He taught us how to properly drink a Guinness. The first "attempt" as he called them, sips to us non-Irish, has to be "past the Harp". On Guinness pint glasses there is a logo with a harp right above it. According to Ned, your first sip should make it past that picture. Sip is an improper word really, gulp is probably more accurate. "You should feel it back there in the back of your throat". We all did. Then he said, "Alright lads, so if you wan' ta drink a Guinness properly, ya get 5 attempts total. That was the first." I thought maybe he was just trying to push more beer on us for profit, but when asked, he preserved that it was just the way the Irish do it. I gotta hand it to Ned, it really does make the Guinness better. Trusting an Irishman when it comes to alcohol is probably smart (or really stupid depending on the circumstances).

Sheesh...I am not succinct. 'Course, there was a lot to say about Ireland. I didn't even mention Tommy Sands (the bard of peace. He played a full three hours in my cottage. His daughter danced jigs. They played traditional songs, I sang along. It was heavenly. Just amazing.) There was a ton learned, and other things that I thought I knew that were shaken up. One thing I do know for sure though:

I'm going back. :)