rigidly gooey

I’m moving tomorrow. So naturally I’ve been reflecting on what this season has contributed to life, what I have accomplished and experienced. Between exploring the mountain bike trails that Toronto has to offer, snuggling in for an episode of Mad Men accompanied by a bowl of the gourmet popcorn that Lauren got for her birthday, and stopping into Soma at the Distillery District for a cup of Mayan hot chocolate (i.e. the experiences) I have been working diligently on several applications for graduate school (i.e. the accomplishments).

I am applying for an MA in Religion. After I get these credentials, and maybe a few more, I am going to become a great teacher and change the world. But first I need credentials.

One portion of each application is a statement of interest, a concise essay that is meant to discuss what it is that the applicant is academically into and how it is that the particular program being applied to can both provide for and benefit from the applicant’s area of focus. In this scenario I am the applicant and it’s a pretty straightforward process.

Nonetheless, writing that statement was an intense emotional and intellectual undertaking for me. It couldn’t be too gooey, laden with details about my religious upbringing and personal development. But neither could I allow it to be too cold, rigidly treating the topic as if I was in no way personally invested, as if it was strictly a conceptual undertaking. Ultimately I just had to write it, finish it, without picking it apart too much. I had to make a statement and rest contented with it. I did, and I’m pleased. We’ll see how effective it is come next March and April when the un/acceptance letters start pouring in.

In the meantime I have the residual sensations to sort through. In the process of writing I did explore my religious history and I did examine my current concept of religion. How did I move from the religious expressions that I learned as a child toward the specific interest in religion that I have today? Can both continue to serve me professionally? Personally? Must I denounce the boundaries I grew up with in order to explore beyond them? If I do, may I still honestly be grateful for my religious heritage?

Most of these questions I have answered for myself already, but not publicly, at least not directly. Much of this blog recently has been a public attempt to indirectly betray the fact that I am entertaining questions like these. I think I want to be more direct in future posts. Thanks for reading in the meantime.

quick read

Here's a great article pertaining to the New Atheist conversation a few of us engaged in a few posts back, an article by Newsweek's Lisa Miller: http://www.newsweek.com/id/219009

My podcast experiment

Over the past couple of months I’ve significantly increased my podcast intake. A couple of trips between Toronto and Indianapolis, as well as a fair bit of time spent strolling the urban terrain of the greater Toronto area has afforded me sufficient time to expand my listening. It’s been a worthwhile and informative endeavor, leaving me more confident in conversation. I often feel now that I have a thing or two to contribute regarding politics, culture, spirituality, or any of a number of interesting topics.

This week I decided to do an experiment. I spent a few minutes browsing for podcasts that would represent opposing perspectives on a particular theme. I chose religion, but any theme would have sufficed I’m sure.

By the end of my research I had sniffed out three free podcasts with an apologetic bent; podcasts which function primarily as a resource for defending certain Christian beliefs against secular threats. According to my understanding the ones I selected all represent, while of course not exhaustively, a conservative evangelical approach to Christianity.

Then I uncovered a few representatives from the opposite end of the spectrum, podcasts that advocated atheism and free thought. I downloaded some random episodes from their archives as well.

At the outset I was not interested in entering too deeply into the actual content of the episodes I listened to, because much of it engaged material that I’ve entertained in other ways at other times. Instead I was listening for tone and approach. And in that regard I found, for the most part, that the broadcasters were quite similar to one another regardless of what they were advocating.

What I had set up in my mind as a boxing match between apologists and atheists ended up being rather an absurd choreographed dance. A mental picture in which the boxers pranced about unaware of one another, beating their fists against the air with smirks of confidence spread across their face.

As a representative from either side of a debate it’s easy to be more interested in defending our propositions against perceived threats than it is to demonstrate ways that our views can contribute to a beneficial style of living.

It’s also common to be so set on attacking the opposition that we fail to recognize the ways in which listening to our opponents may actually contribute to our own formation.

Defending one’s perspective is by no means a thing to be criticized, but the attitude of defensiveness and victimization with which it is so often done is a juvenile habit. And although articulating one’s worldview is a necessary piece of social interaction and personal growth, to do so in a way that degrades another person is blatantly arrogant and intemperate.

I am learning to be more honest with others, and myself, by acknowledging that there are things I think with some degree of stability. I do have strong beliefs, and I’m often stubborn about them. My desire in this, however, is to grow in both honesty and patience. I want to recognize that when I propose a statement of belief it is only reasonable to do so if extended conscientiously and compassionately, because compassion is the soil that my beliefs are rooted in.