I'm a ballerina. No, I've never taken dance lessons, but I'm a ballerina. True, I've never danced in the Nutcracker or Swan Lake or any other ballet, but I'm a ballerina.
In English, as in many languages, entities are defined by what they do or what practical purpose they perform. Would you call a phonebook a knife? Of course not! If you did, you'd ask your friend for a knife and she'd hand you a phonebook (if she patronized your silly semantics). You'd have trouble making your sandwich.
We want our language as precise as possible for efficiency. Philosophers have spent the past century striving for a language refined enough to convey both the simple and the sublime. One, Wittgenstein, devised a method for ensuring each word in a language had only one meaning. He failed miserably, but we accuse ourselves if we fault him for trying.
It's clear, if I don't do ballet, I'm not a ballerina. In the same way, I'm not a Muslim, because I don't practice Islam. Nor am I a Christian, since I don't do what Christians do.
Now to my point: it is constantly apparent a number of people call themselves Christians who do not perform the actions of Christians (and a similar argument could be made for Muslims and Conservatives -- i.e. Bush). Perhaps I should rephrase that: maybe these "Christians" act just like "Christians" but they don't act like Jesus. Christian, I learned in my class on Shalom this fall, means in Greek, "little Christ". So it seems we may agree on a standard: that those who call themselves by the word "Christian" should fulfill the same role Jesus did. Maybe I'm asking too much.
Yet, the recent actions of "Christians" do not even closely approach in likeness to Jesus' admonitions, much less his acts. "Christians" ignore guidelines like 'Turn the other cheek' and 'Lay down his life for his friends' and 'Care for the sojourner in your land'. Instead, "Christians" shoot assailants in their churches. They obfuscate Jesus' clear teachings into complex, borderline gnostic doctrines, Melissa Scott-esque non-sequiturs, and prosperity "gospels" -- for profit! -- and they whip earnest humans into harnessed oxen by which they power political ideologies.
I feel sick to write of it. Oftentimes the conspiracy theories about the Masons and Knights Templar seem so credible -- they hover like locusts demonstrating irrefutably the devised nature of this monotheism -- and so tangible -- I know I can touch their modern day counterparts by dialing ten numbers on my phone -- that such obvious hogwash appears more plausible than a virgin birth and a resurrection.
I'm not in a place to make any predictions about these "Christians" and their relation to any God they claim to serve. Jesus said he himself did not come to judge. Wiser learners than I have argued to me any imperative extrapolated from Jesus' assertion applies only to eternal judgment. Their advice allows me the freedom to say I do not approve of those "Christians" who do the opposite of what Jesus did. I feel they discredit those who strive so intensely to live up to all the
responsibility associated with Jesus' name, just as I discredit all ballerinas when I claim a likeness to their grace.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
December 18, 2007
June 13, 2007
digame
On my first night in New York my roommate Andrew took me bar hopping.
On the way down I noticed talking on the subway is like watching silent movies: you can see their lips move, but you can't hear the syllables. It's an eerie disconnect. You have to shout, even face to face. If you don't, your words are garbled by the clunk and gimbling of the car. I dart my eyes between eyes and lips to try to read what I can't hear.
Sociology students should be required to take trips on subways. I rode the A train from JFK to my stop. At the last Brooklyn stop a young Chinese man hopped aboard. As he silently took a seat, I noticed he was the only non-black person on my car, besides me. However, the first stop in Manhattan, a few Slavic whites got on. By midtown the car was evenly mixed. By my stop, the car was predominantly Hispanic and Irish white. It wasn't the race that through me off, but the progression. Is the city ghettoed? Or was it the time of day? In a city so diverse, the delineations seemed too stark.
Not that race dehumanizes much in New York. Here, the divider between people (and there seems there's always a divider) is language. In my neighborhood you'll see very dark skinned people speaking Spanish to very light skinned people. The same will happen between those speaking English. There are white people dressed in the same attire as black people, and Hispanics dressed in the same attire as Irish or Jewish people. But it seems that two people speaking a Slavic language are set apart from the three speaking French and the two chatting away in Hindi or Swahili. Race doesn't make people inaccessible, but it seems language might.
Speaking of language, I went to the UN today. Not interesting at all. I imagine it would be fascinating if you could do more than stand in the lobby or examine the gift shop.
It's a lonely city, this city is. I walked for six hours today, yet I only spoke once briefly to passers-by and once to a girl on a subway to ask for directions. When she found out this was my second day in the city, she said, "Oh that's why you look wide eyed and innocent." We chatted for a bit and her advice to me was Don't tell people where you live. You don't know who you can trust, here in New York.
On the way down I noticed talking on the subway is like watching silent movies: you can see their lips move, but you can't hear the syllables. It's an eerie disconnect. You have to shout, even face to face. If you don't, your words are garbled by the clunk and gimbling of the car. I dart my eyes between eyes and lips to try to read what I can't hear.
Sociology students should be required to take trips on subways. I rode the A train from JFK to my stop. At the last Brooklyn stop a young Chinese man hopped aboard. As he silently took a seat, I noticed he was the only non-black person on my car, besides me. However, the first stop in Manhattan, a few Slavic whites got on. By midtown the car was evenly mixed. By my stop, the car was predominantly Hispanic and Irish white. It wasn't the race that through me off, but the progression. Is the city ghettoed? Or was it the time of day? In a city so diverse, the delineations seemed too stark.
Not that race dehumanizes much in New York. Here, the divider between people (and there seems there's always a divider) is language. In my neighborhood you'll see very dark skinned people speaking Spanish to very light skinned people. The same will happen between those speaking English. There are white people dressed in the same attire as black people, and Hispanics dressed in the same attire as Irish or Jewish people. But it seems that two people speaking a Slavic language are set apart from the three speaking French and the two chatting away in Hindi or Swahili. Race doesn't make people inaccessible, but it seems language might.
Speaking of language, I went to the UN today. Not interesting at all. I imagine it would be fascinating if you could do more than stand in the lobby or examine the gift shop.
It's a lonely city, this city is. I walked for six hours today, yet I only spoke once briefly to passers-by and once to a girl on a subway to ask for directions. When she found out this was my second day in the city, she said, "Oh that's why you look wide eyed and innocent." We chatted for a bit and her advice to me was Don't tell people where you live. You don't know who you can trust, here in New York.
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