getting personal, going political

I was jarred and confused with myself a couple of days ago when a professor at the seminary, who I was meeting for the first time, asked me about my focus of study. Confused because at this point in the game I feel strongly as if I should have a ready answer to such an inquiry, but instead I strolled along beside him asserting that, “I don’t really know, it’s hard to say.”

And that’s true. It is hard to say. And not least of all difficult to toss my convictions, my concerns, and my ambitions into the condensed setting of a thirty second encounter. But I think I do know really. And hard as it may be I think I need to take opportunities like that to try and say something of what I am doing here.

There are two re-emerging themes in my ever-active mind. [Correction: I shut it down for a few rounds of Angry Birds every couple of days. But aside from then, the themes continually surface in my thoughts.]
1) Advocating an ecological consciousness and mindfulness of our connection to the earth.
2) The pluralistic dynamics (especially pertaining to religious diversity) inherent in contemporary society.

Neither of these subjects of contemplation makes me particularly remarkable, especially as one who calls CTS home. At CTS social-mindedness is the norm, and social action is foremost on the agenda. That’s why I’m here. Not to refine my ipseity, but to be one amongst a group of thoughtful and committed humans intent on spiffing up the world.

But I do believe that I have something specific, even particular, to contribute to the mosaic of history. And part of being here is to risk putting words to what that contribution might be.

So the next time I get a chance to toss my ambitions into a sound byte I might say something like: I am here to amp up the call of the wild; to nurture eco-mindfulness; to treat the earth (in all its grit) as metaphor and context for mutli-faith encounter and (inter)action.

And if I have the time I might risk saying that I am an aspiring political-theologian with a taste for wild places. Which would require some parsing of the title; and would lead to me pulling this gem out of my pocket:

“What is at stake in theological thinking today is not tinkering with the religious self-understanding of religious institutions and still less with providing nostrums for a narcissistic spirituality, but rather of trying to think resolutely and lucidly about a future for humanity and for life itself in the face of the menace of self-inflicted biocide. Real theological thinking is directed toward the question of the deliverance of the earth and the earthling from the empire of avarice, arrogance and violence.”

I’m here rehearsing the various ways that the symbol of God functions in the world (past and present). I’m using the classroom as a tuning fork, finding my pitch, so that I can join the chorus of the community. And staying on my toes in case I get a chance to chant a solo.


[Several voices contributed to this post: Margaret Mead’s “Never doubt…” quote, Theodore Jennings’ quote above, and Elizabeth Johnson’s “The symbol of God functions.”]