Modesty

If I write this, I suspect I will come off sounding like I’m old. Out of touch, a prude, a prig. Since only a few folks read this blog, I doubt my reputation will be too badly tarnished in any respect.

I’m writing on modesty, or the lack thereof, in modern culture. Seems as if the “anything goes” mood of the hippie generation has caused fashion to lose its moorings in the current day. Why do people feel like they must impose on me their freedom to expose their skin? I think we have lost the distinction between what we do in a public space versus a private space.

Take music for instance. There is a kind of arrogance in those who blare their favorite music from their cars, windows down, volume up. It is a kind of assault, an act of aggression, “listen to my music or else.” At the very least it is a misuse of public space, an act of selfishness which does not take into consideration the needs of those around you. If you want to listen to your favorite music turned up loud, do it in a private space in such a way that it does not bother your neighbors, please.

So, back to the subject of dress. There is a similar arrogance in those who expose their favorite body parts from their clothes, neckline plunged, or pants sagging. It is an act of aggression, “I dare you not to look.” At the very least it is a misuse of public space, an act of selfishness which indeed, flaunts what one has regardless of the impact on others. If one wants to dress immodestly, then do so in a private space in such a way that it does not bother one’s neighbors, please. I do not want to see the cleavage of my child’s teacher anymore than I want to see the, ahem, cleavage of my plumber when he bends over the clogged pipes in my house.

Self-expression has reached new heights in post-modern culture. Our bodies have become canvases, or pin cushions. Professional dress has given way to casual Fridays to sloppy everydays. Who am I to say it is wrong?

Maybe it is not wrong. I just prefer not to have another’s self-expression rubbed in my face. Remember those parts of our bodies we once called “privates”? I would just like to keep them that way.

For Biblical consideration: The expressive love language of the Song of Solomon is rich with imagery and even innuendo, but without graphic, anatomical detail. Perhaps we can learn from this evocative poetry how to balance sensuality with modesty. Lover invites lover into the “garden,” or into the “chamber,” both private spaces for love’s consummation. May we take a hint from such scripture for how to make the distinction for dress in public and private spaces.

Separation of Church and State

Here is an issue that never seems to be settled – what does the phrase, “separation of church and state,” actually mean? The question is rooted in the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States in regard to two clauses: 1) “Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion,” or 2) “prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

I doubt my thoughts carry too much weight, nor are they original but here goes.

First of all, separation of church and state is not the same thing as separation of sacred and secular. The Bible knows no such distinction. The “earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof,” is a well-known phrase from the psalms that so succinctly tells us that God cannot be compartmentalized into some holy shrine apart from the rest of life. Jesus’ famous words, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s,” would have been understood by his hearers, not as a separation of sacred and secular, nor as a justification for the separation of church and state, but as a thoughtful reminder that “everything” belongs to God.

So, when a person of Judeo-Christian faith enters public life as a civil servant, their faith should inform how they conduct themselves. Those who have argued that they can put their faith on the shelf while they carry out their role in government seem to me to be making light of both their faith and their public responsibility. Again, there is no Biblical distinction between sacred and secular.

Nevertheless, there do seem to be some common sense reasons for the two clauses of the First Amendment. The founders of our nation brought with them their experiences of religious oppression which they did not want to see repeated in the newly formed U.S.A. So, they decided we should have no religion “established” by the government, and that government would do nothing to prevent our exercise of religion. That sounds reasonable. That way there is no opportunity for one particular faith perspective to hold a monopoly over any other. While I might be perfectly comfortable with a government aligned completely according to Wesleyan (Methodist) principles, you, as a Catholic, or Baptist, or Presbyterian, or Pentecostal, or Jew, might have some issues with that. So, practically speaking, there is some value to the so-called separation clauses.

One repeated criticism of our school system, for instance, runs like this, “Everything was great until they took prayer out of schools,” as if to say that all our recent social ills can be traced to that cause. All I need to remember is one of my son’s elementary teachers whose particular brand of religion was significantly different from mine. I did not want her using the classroom as a pulpit for her peculiar theology. Nor, I suspect, would she have wanted her children under my tutelage, fearing what influence my theology would have on them. Also, back when prayers were a part of every teacher’s responsibility in the classroom, there were no civil rights for people of Afro-American heritage. I wonder if they think things were better when there was prayer in schools. I say, if you want your child to grow up with faith it needs to happen in the home, at church, or at a private school. Our public schools are just that, public, and thus should be kept free of any hint of “established” religion.

Having said that, I also think that, at present, our schools have gone too far in trying to avoid “establishment,” to the point of often “prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” In the government’s search for providing balance between different faiths, people of Christian sensibilities have actually felt persecuted in recent years. As great efforts have been made to honor the traditions of minority religions – Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, etc., sometimes the Christian voice has been silenced. Admittedly, this is rare.

I live in a county where City Council meetings at the various municipalities still begin with prayer, usually in Jesus’ name. Our school board still offers prayers at major functions. The law provides for a separation, but in practice the law gives way to community traditions and rituals of the majority. I do wonder sometimes how my Jewish brothers and sisters feel about that. What is it like to be the minority?

I believe that the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. But nothing in my faith tells me that I can force anyone else to so believe. History is full of terrible stories of the Church gaining power and forcing its will on society. Therein lies the danger of the failure to separate church and state. The Church cannot be trusted with power. Neither can anyone else. Much better for the Church to act as a prophet to call attention to the abuse of power, than to wield the power itself.

Ah, well, that’s enough for now. I invite your feedback.

Messy Spirituality

A recent common theme in some of my readings and conversations is the difficulty of living a spiritual life that is based on a theology of competence. In simple words, being Christian is hard if it's all about measuring up. It is easy to see where this kind of spirituality comes from. As children we are expected to measure up to our parent's expectations until the day when we are out on our own, supposedly independent or autonomous creatures. The trouble is, many of us never quite mature beyond that perceived need to measure up. But if Mom and Dad are no longer around in a routine way to "set the bar," then our yardstick is unreliable, fluctuating.

We may, instead, let other authority figures set the bar - a teacher, or an entire educational system; a boss, or a spouse, or . . . well, you get the picture. A spirituality based on competence - measuring up - becomes frustrating and even debilitating because the yardstick may fluctuate so much that we are never sure if we're hitting the mark. We may find ourselves constantly comparing our behavior to those around us, "Oh, I'm better than her, but not as good as him," and that continuous comparison is also a recipe for frustration and failure (incompetence).

Paul, the apostle, introduces us to a spirituality that is not about competence at all. He writes, "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." He describes our tendency to "miss the mark." Spirituality for Paul is about recognizing our own weaknesses but trusting that God loves us anyway, that God can even use our weakness to accomplish something that fits with God's good plans for creation. Paul even brags about his own failures, and boast of carrying around a treasure in a clay jar (easily cracked).

What I have found is that most of us are so captivated by a spirituality of competence that we can't believe that God could love us unless we have proven ourselves. But proving ourselves is a losing game. Even if we are the best at something - singing, mathematics, strength, prayer, sales, etc., someday we will hit our limit, our abilities will decline, there will always be someone who will bypass us in competency. We will all experience what it feels like to not measure up.

I remind myself often that before Jesus had told a parable or performed a miracle God spoke to him at his baptism and said, "You are my Son, whom I love, with you I am well pleased." In Christian spirituality there is no bar. All we're asked to do is to trust we are loved, and then to follow in the way of Jesus. A way in which we are assured there will be pain and sacrifice (don't forget the cross!). In a worldly sense, Jesus failed to measure up, so the world put him to death.

This kind of spirituality is messy. It is not based on competence but on grace. God bestows unmerited favor on us. And we in turn bestow unmerited favor on others. And the world, which doesn't trust a spirituality that is not based on competence will look on us with suspicion - "This can't be right," they say. "Aren't you supposed to do something?"

Well, of course. The doing is in the following in this way of the cross, which is messy, isn't it? I can't claim any competence in spiritual matters. I teach the importance of prayer but I'm not very competent at it. I preach a sacrificial life but I'm not the best role model by any means. I feel bad about that. Not filled with warm, fuzzy spiritual thoughts. But I love Jesus. And I love it that he loves me. And as incompetent as I am, I want to be like him. So I keep at it. It's messy. But I think that means its real.