Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Some Reflections on Doug's Sermon (6-13-10)

This originally was posted at http://wp.me/puJQo-3M.

I, whether by circumstantial conditioning, or nature, am a very anxious person. I’ve spent the last three months of my life worrying about a lot of things — school, my relationship with my fiancée, my relationships with my parents, my relationship with my fiancée’s mother, my finances, papers, work, etc. To paraphrase the character Aldous Snow in GET HIM TO THE GREEK, “[my] life is a laundry list of things [I] have to worry about.” It wasn’t until this past week that I’ve realized how much I worry and demand control over my own life.

My week began with a very convicting Sunday night. Normally, I would have just listened to what the sermon was about, analyzed it, found the holes in it (if there were any), and gone on. However, it was a very different night. The topic was on what causes a person to worry, and how that affects a person from living the life that Christ wants them to. I dare say, if it had been any other night, I would have done my normal routine. However, having spent the last month worrying about my finances, my future with Ash, being the husband I need to be, how I am going to pay off loans, and whether or not it is the best thing to stay in grad school, I was under quite a bit of emotional duress. It was at that point that as I listened to the sermon, allowing myself to really chew on that passage (Luke 12:22-34), that I began to “get it…” sort of. I started to understand that God knows what I need. In that particular passage, Jesus is talking to his disciples and he tells them “EVERYBODY needs food, clothing, and shelter. God knows this. He will make sure that you have that. People worry about that every day, and the world runs on those things. Worry about the Kingdom, I’ll take care of you” (paraphrased).

Now, I know this is difficult, especially for guys in long-term relationships. Most males will want to make sure that his family is provided for and that they aren’t going to be in dire straights once creditors come knocking, or an emergency happens. It’s hard to believe in something you cannot see, touch, smell, or measure by any empirical means. However, faith isn’t empirical. Faith isn’t quantifiable by any technology that we have in place today.

In light of that, it is ok and it is normal to struggle with worrying about whether or not you will be provided for, or whether you can provide for someone other than yourself. But once you get to the point where you know God is happy when he can take responsibility for the things he said he would, then the edge gets taken off of worrying about the stuff you have to have in order to live.

To take it to a deeper level – I was with my dad on Sunday, during which, we celebrated Father’s Day. He had asked how I was doing and in the course of our conversation, I mentioned to him what I had just written. He then told me about a friend of his who is struggling with the same thing. However, his friend had a little more insight into why he struggles with the issue of worrying so much–trust. My dad told me that his friend doesn’t really believe that “every good and perfect gift comes from above.” It was then that it hit me: I don’t trust that God is who he says he is.

God says that he will provide, that he will take care of our needs. I am not so sure of that. I have seen so many things during the last year that would speak contrarily to this. But God isn’t a God who changes based on my circumstances. He exists outside of my feelings and my beliefs (or unbelief, for that matter).

All this goes to say, that by worrying, I am showing a profound distrust in the character and power of an infinite being — one that promises to take care of my needs and who cares more about me than he does the flowers that I see at the florist downtown, or the pigeons that amble around Market Square. That is something that I haven’t ever understood and am just now getting to the point of comprehending exactly what that all means. I’m not a dumpy bird, nor am I part of a bouquet…I’m a child,a friend, and a beloved of the Most High. I am part of the little flock, under the guidance of a loving, gentle Shepherd who is happy to give his flock the Kingdom…when they let him.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Stairway to Heaven (not the Led Zeplin version)

“Go back to hell, where you came from, you old Warthog!” Mary Grace shouts at the self-righteous Ruby Turpin, which causes Ruby an uncharacteristic moment of self-doubt. In this scene from “Revelation,” the unlikely prophet, Mary Grace, is so fed up with Mrs. Turpin’s racist and elitist comments that she simultaneously throws a book of Human Development at Mrs. Turpin’s head. Obviously, Mary Grace believes that Mrs. Turpin’s development and sense of justice have been so warped that she must get her attention. This is a typical scene of grace in O’Connor’s work. O’Connor believed that grace means change and change is uncomfortable, so sometimes through our most baffling, humbling, painful moments, we really begin to see who we are. Most of us at times like these, like Mrs. Turpin, rail at God, shouting, “Who do you think you are [to put me through this]?" Mrs. Turpin’s final vision of the stairway to heaven undercuts everything she’s ever believed about herself and others—that is, the “best” people will go to heaven. In her vision, the people whom she has always considered beneath her, are actually first on the stairway and the “righteous” people’s good deeds and "things" are aflame. It’s our pride that always gets us in trouble. I like the term epistemological humility these days—acknowledging that I don’t have all the answers, and that I need to be less judgmental.

Paradox: We talked about many things in class last Thurs. but one thing was the paradoxical nature of the story--which would go with the famous biblical paradox of the Last Shall Be First. Mrs. Turpin’s name is the blend of something majestic (Ruby) and something very mundane and paradoxical itself—a land turtle—Turpin. Also, it seems ironic that in the story, pigs take on starring roles. The “clean” Mrs. Turpin wants to control her pigs and clean them up artificially. Yet at the story’s end, the old sow ends up being a symbol of grace and beauty, just doing what she does naturally—in giving life to the piglets. Also, Mrs. Turpin seems to be linked (somewhat) to the elder brother of the prodigal son story—with a twist being that she lives with the pigs. Someone mentioned that the setting of the doctor’s waiting room is a type of paradoxical judgment scene-- people are waiting to be “healed” while being judged by the merciless Mrs. Turpin. (And, of course, ironically, people end up getting hurt emotionally and physically in this office.) This opening judgment scene repeats itself in the final part of the story with another ironic twist, where Mrs. Turpin is no longer a judge but a disturbed witness on the bottom rung of the staircase to Heaven. This is her great revelation--she is one of those luke warm Christians that the book of Revelation describes.

Context: The story was written in 1964 shortly after Dr. King’s “I Have A Dream Speech” that advocated racial harmony—hence the significance of the heavenly stairway with African-American people at the head of the line. We did discuss the racial divides in this story and the signifying that went on between Mrs. Turpin and the African American workers on her farm. Mrs. Turpin is trying to be authentic with the workers but since she’s always played roles with them (see the early part of the story about her codified role-playing with her employees), they continue in the “play.” Mrs. Turpin ends up being entirely dissatisfied with the whole exchange.

We also talked about the blending of the liturgical color symbolism in O’Connor’s stories. Here are some ideas that I found on line:

RedSignifies action, fire, charity, spiritual awakening. It also glorifies the sun and the joy of life and love. In the Christian symbolism, it denotes Holy Spirit. It is the color of Pentecost.BlueBlue signifies the blue skies or the life-giving air and often signifies hope or good health. It is an alternate color for the season of Advent.WhitePurity, virginity, innocence, and birth, are symbolized with this color. White is the liturgical color of Christmas and Easter.

Purple speaks of fasting, faith, patience and trust. It is the liturgical color used during seasons of penance, Advent and Lent.

There is a great deal of red, purple and blue in the story. You might want to draw up your own schemata of what the colors all mean. Here’s a caveat, though—don’t get too carried away. O’Connor once said of the misfit’s hat in “A Good Man is Hard to Find” that “sometimes a black hat is just a black hat.” But who knows? She may have been saying this tongue-in-cheek.

I’ve also pasted in this week’s questions and the handout that I distributed in class.
“Revelation” and questions for “Parker’s Back”

Matthew 19:30: But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first

Revelation 3 14"To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God's creation. 15I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! 16So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. 17You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. 18I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. 19Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. 20Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. 21To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches."

Background for the story: The story’s character Mary Grace is based on FO’s real life friend Mary “Maryat” Attaway, who was also a Wellesley student. This story was written quickly, within 8 weeks, and in July of 1964 she won the O.Henry Prize for it. Sadly, she found out this good news only a few weeks before she died. On Feb. 24, 1964, she had entered the hospital (for a hysterectomy for fibrous tumor. Near the end, she would rest for 22 hours just so that she could write for 2. She died on August 4 and her funeral was held one day later so many of her northern friends couldn’t attend, but her death was announced in the New York Times .

Comments from Critical Responses to Flannery O’Connor (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2004). Ed. Douglas Robillard, Jr.

“The revelation is unmistakable. Its explicitness is in keeping with the minds of the Ruby Turpins. And although Mary Grace is a manipulated character, she expresses O’Connor’s certainty that man can never dictate the conditions in which truth will be revealed. Because human definitions of God’s ways are too limited to be wholly accurate, they must be corrected by violence which disturbs the creature so that he may be open to the creator” (Gossett 85).

[M]arvelously funny apocalypse of the Laodicians, but the story goes on too long” (Hyman 92). “ Secularism never has a chance. [This story and others contain] religious visions that the development of the story does not justify” (Lorch 108).

Milder comments that O’Connor’s stories turn upon a moment of humiliation which then ends with a decision for grace or a realization that one is in badly need of redemption. Furthermore, Milder asserts that for O’Connor, in a word, original sin is equivalent to ‘self,’ and before grace can be extended to a character that ‘self’ must be annihilated” (170).

Wood says of Mrs. Turpin’s epiphany, “As almost always in O’Connor’s work, the answer occurs through silence. The talky woman who has raged against God receives no divine lecture but an eschatological vision. With the sky darkening toward sunset, Ruby stares down an old sow who feeds her suckling piglets in utter disregard for her own welfare. This scene of unstaunched giving and vibrant receiving enables Ruby to gaze ‘through the very heart of mystery.’ She seems, in fact, to be ‘absorbing some abysmal life-giving knowledge.’”

He further notes, “O’Connor never ends her stories with easy victories, since neither good art nor authentic faith is ever less than arduous and exacting. Ruby Turpin is still far from salvation. Her false goodness will not be easily cleansed. Even in receiving her divine vision, she retains her tone of arch condescension…yet neither will she be able
to forget what she has glimpsed.”

Wood also calls this short story, O’Connor’s most “winsome.” He ends his book, in fact, with commentary on “Revelation,” which he then extends into his closing comments: “Yet hope remains [for our nation], the eschatological hope that Ruby Turpin encountered, the hope that God’s burning mercy hurries terribly and wonderfully near. Flannery O’Connor’s work both enlivens and extends this hope because it was inspired by a terribly and wonderfully Christ-haunted region.”

Questions for “Parker’s Back”
1. Why in your judgment, did Parker marry Sarah Ruth? Why did she marry him?
2. At the end of the second paragraph, the author says of Parker and Sarah Ruth: “He could account for her one way or another; it was himself that he could not understand.”
How accurate is each part of this assumption?
3. What does Parker’s employer think of him? How valid is her estimation?
4. What is the basis of Parker’s fascination with tattooing? What kinds of feelings usually prompt him to get a new tattoo?
5. “Long views depressed Parker. You look out into space like that and you begin to feel as if someone were after you, the navy or the government or religion” (paragraph 36). What insights does this statement give us into Parker’s character and behavior?
6. What motivates Parker to get the tattoo on his back? How does he expect Sarah Ruth to respond to it?
7. While waiting for the artist to finish the God tattoo, Parker feels that “his sensations of the day and night before were those of a crazy man and that he would return to doing things according to his own sound judgment” (paragraph 117). How much self-awareness does the observation demonstrate.
8. When the artist asks him if he’s “gone and got religion,” Parker says, “I ain’t got no use for none of that. A man can’t save his self from whatever it is he don’t deserve none of my sympathy (paragraph 119). What does this attitude illustrate about Parker’s personality? By his own standard, how much of his own sympathy does he deserve?
9. Why does Sarah Ruth refuse to recognize parker by his initials? What is the significance of his whispering his name through the keyhole, and what effect does doing so have on him?
10. Can you think of how this story might relate to the iconoclasts? Also do you see any
11. Do you see Biblical typology here? Biblical typology uses an OT figure to point to a New Testament figure. Think about how the prophet Jonah is used in this story.

Come and join us next Thurs. for this final class!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

a fresh perspective

While my time at Regent College this summer has put me back in the center of all that is good about Evangelicalism and reminded me that I am thankful for my roots in it, I have also become more keenly aware of how much I appreciate what we have set out to do at All Souls. When I try to explain what our church is like, I get one of two responses: 1. a blank stare of total non-comprehension or 2. an excited, eager attentiveness and an awakening of longing to learn more about what we are doing.

This has given me a fresh perspective and a renewed appreciation for the unique blend of elements we have at All Souls that seem to be distinctive and also appealing to many of the young Evangelicals I am meeting in my classes.
They are:
1. seeking the "shalom" of a specific place/parish, into which people are intentional about moving, living, working, serving, building community, worshiping (People are growing weary of the sprawling mega-church and are wanting to return to the community "parish" that is within walking distance of one's home and integral to the neighborhood.)
2. urban monasticism: intentional community-building and the practice of praying through the hours together on a daily basis (which we have actually drifted away from--to my personal dismay)
3. the idea of evangelism starting by first extending the hospitality of Christ and moving from there toward shalom and redemption
4. the inclusion of liturgy and sacrament, mystery & awe, and a more contemplative holy reverence while maintaining a relevance to the post-modern mind (ancient truths in a fresh retelling)
5. an emphasis on communal participation of "the people" in worship before a holy God as a 'WE' (not entirely eliminating, but shifting away from emphasizing the 'ME' in worship)
6. an emphasis on social and environmental justice, especially in the local community
7. the continuance of art and music, but more organically and "community-driven" (as opposed to the polished production of the mega-church which can tend to inadvertently foster a consumer mindset and expectation)
8. nurturing the artists among us and the artistry within each of us and calling forth art as offering (as opposed to an over-emphasis on art production)
9. the continuance of quality, solid Biblical teaching
10. the continuance of Spirit-filled worship and prayer, receptive to the gifts of the Spirit practiced in the context of God-centered relationships


These are the things that my being away has reminded me to appreciate about us. While a number of churches have some of these elements, the combination of these things is apparently rare and unique, and seems to be very appealing to the next generation of young pastors I am meeting.

I believe these are the basic components that set us apart in our original vision, and in most ways I think we have remained true to them. In some ways, I sense maybe we have lost our way a bit. I guess this is normal and tends to happen from time to time in any organization. But my experiences at Regent have urged me to urge all of you to press on toward the goal and to stay true to the core values of our original course and calling. My heart really resonated with the word from the prayer team last week: “Thus says the Lord, stand by the roads, and look and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it.” Jeremiah 6:16.


Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to study abroad and gain some fresh perspective! I am so thankful for each of you and the part you play in making us who we are. Telling others about you makes me realize I'm pretty proud of us!

Missing you all,
Travetta

Justice Team Meeting June 14

The Justice Team met June 14 and eight members were present. Business included scheduling the Amachi's Mentor and Mentee's Lake day at the Scaperoth's for July 31 and discussions of attending the Christian Community Development Association meeting in Chicago September 7-11; a social get-together in July; small group grants, including approval of a grant to the Branson's small group to purchase some basic needs for some Western Heights residents, another grant to the Branson's small group to help a Mechanicsville resident repair parts of her house, and another small group's consideration to work with the Friends of the Library to supply books to Spring Hill Elementary school; and possible involvement again this year in the Mechanicsville homecoming (in late August?). Afterwards, the meeting was closed with prayer.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

A Guide Who Has At Heart Your Getting Lost


The title lines are from the poem "Directive" in which Frost's persona asks the reader to "Let a guide direct you/who only has at heart your getting lost." I think that is what Flannery O'Connor does in her stories--she allows characters to get so lost that they find God and themselves.

And many readers seem to enjoy or appreciate this technique as evidenced by some startling statistics from the new UT PRESS book entitled Flannery O'Connor in the Age of Terrorism:

"Flannery O'Connor now ranks as the seventh greatest twentieth-century American writer; fourth greatest twentieth-century writer in the United States; top American writer (after that other regional anchorite, Emily Dickinson); twelfth greatest American writer of all times; the eighth greatest writer of all time." (This from The Literary 100: A Ranking of the Most Influential Novelists, Playwrights, and Poets of All Time. NY:Checkmark, 2001.)

Also, I forgot to mention in class that O'Connor did not know that Manley Pointer was going to steal Hulga's leg until about 8-12 lines before she wrote it. As a writer myself, I am always fascinated with how writers compose and where/how they get their ideas. I know that when I get an idea, it does feel like God breathing on me.

Last, here is another important comment that David Gayk made the other night after class:

"I was thinking about my (and maybe others) problem with Flannery O'Connor using figures like the Misfit and Manley Pointer as Christ figures - assuming they are such and I think the Flannery O'Connor's Catholic perspective makes all the difference in the world. It would seem to me that Catholics often look to see Jesus in all they meet, while Protestants seem to single out Jesus as a one of a kind and thus we have an unflawed, sinless man-God that could never take on such characteristics. By limiting ourselves (protestants) to that perspective we often fail to see the Christ in our fellow man, no matter how good or evil he or she might be. At least that helps me out."

More pictures of Flannery O'Connor's characters and ideas are available from Anita Horton's website: http://www.anitahorton.com/hulga.html.

Hope I didn't lose you too much in this post--it's a little disjointed. HAH.
Peace!

Friday, June 11, 2010

Whoever saves his life will lose it

We had quite a stimulating discussion last night in the O'Connor class. The take-away idea, for me anyway, thanks to Rebecca Loy (and of course the other comments leading up this point) is the scripture "Whoever saves his life will lose it and whoever loses his life (for me) will save it" from Mark 8:35 and other comparable scriptures in Matthew and Luke. We were trying to figure out if the ending of "Good Country People" was hopeful or not--and since the only scripture mentioned in this text is the one quoted above, we might conclude that Hulga's life has been saved--because she loses all the things that gave her life "meaning"--especially her wooden leg or wooden soul. At the end of the story she is "lost," but as Robert Frost says in his poem "Directive," sometimes you have to be lost enough to find yourself.

And as for poems, below is a poem that I thought of when we were talking about how Hulga sees "better" without her glasses:

Monet Refuses The Operation

Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps
as angels, to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolves
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and change our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

Lisel Mueller

I love Mueller's poem. I think it's in the preface of one of Anne LaMott's book (maybe Plan B?).

One other idea, in an email after class, David Gayk had an astute observation about Hulga-Joy: "I was thinking about her name and it seems that even though we might be born with original sin, we are also born with the name of Joy and somehow most of us turn from Joy into Hulgas (something ugly), whether it is in rebellion or whether it is truly the way we feel. It takes a confrontation with the "Truth" to help us realize that we are all Joys and to leave the ugliness behind. Sometimes the confrontation is successful and sometimes it is not."

So just some thoughts. The class is still open to those who want to "lose" themselves to find themselves.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

O'Connor class: Large and Startling Figures

Large and Startling Figures

Hi, everyone, here are notes from the first two O'Connor classes. I will also paste in some of the emails that were circulating.

When Flannery died, Merton was not exaggerating his estimate of her worth when he said he would not compare her with such good writers as Hemingway, Porter and Sartre but rather with "someone like Sophocles … I write her name with honor, for all the truth and all the craft with which she shows man's fall and his dishonor."

Readings: Week one (June 3) “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” Week two (June 10) “Good Country People," Week three (June 17), “Revelation,”Week four (June 24) “Parker’s Back"

In Mystery and Manners, O’Connor writes, “to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind you draw large and startling figures. (New paragraph) Unless we are willing to accept our artists as they are, the answer to the question, "Who speaks for America today?" will have to be: the advertising agencies” (“The Fiction Writer and His Country”).

For each short story, try to identify the ways that O’Connor wants us to see the ideas of grace and redemption, and be sure to mark areas that you feel are quite humorous, as well as the areas that you find troublesome. Also, try to see if there is some key mediating figure who shares some characteristics of the person who is undergoing transformation. Look for moments in the story that are the most uncomfortable—O’Connor has written that grace means change and change is uncomfortable.

Categorizing her work: Southern Gothic: Full of grotesques (disturbing, exaggerated characters), irony, violence, supernatural events. The importance of grace: some have suggested that as a Catholic, she would define grace as the influence or spirit of God, operating to regenerate or strengthen that person.


Context during the literary world: In O’Connor’s novel Wiseblood, Hazel Motes comments, “No one who has a good car has to be justified.” But it’s only when a policeman pushes Hazel’s car off the cliff that Hazel begins to really see (even though he also blinds himself). O’Connor is writing against the American trend of writing about the importance of the car and the road to finding oneself. This was particularly true during the time that O'Connor wrote in the 1950's but the tradition goes way back. Think about such works as Walt Whitman’s “Song of the Road,” The Great Gatsby, The Road, All the King’s Men, and more recently, Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance and Easy Rider. Most of the main characters in these works believe in a type of innocence that they hope to find on the road, sometimes out west, or in their car. But Brian Ragen comments, “The only truth the driver seems to find at the end of his travels is that life is pointless as the aimless journey” (86). Flannery O’Connor’s ideas match up more closely with Nathaniel Hawthorne who would say the belief in the essential goodness and innocence of humankind is nonsense, and, like O’Connor, believed in original sin and evil. O’Connor writes, “that my subject in fiction is the action of grace in territory largely held by the devil” (M&M 118). But in a 1959 letter to John Hawkes, she says that she’s not as interested in the devil but in the evil things that lead up to a moment of grace. In F.O. and the Christ-Haunted South, Ralph C. Woods argues that the narrator’s voice in her stories is O’Connor’s own and that she has a great deal in common with the fundamentalists that she writes about. For she herself once wrote in a 1959 letter, “It is an embarrassment to our fundamentalist neighbors to realize that they are doctrinally nearer their traditional enemy, the church of Rome, than they are to modern Protestantism.” Another provocative comment: “She admired Camus and Sartre and Nietzsche because they took God seriously enough to deny his reality” (Wood 31).

Comments about The Misfit: The end of the story from Wood: “The Misfit’s voice is choking with self-pity when the Grandmother extends him her surprising gesture of solidarity. And as soon as he kills her, the red-eyed homicide wipes his glasses, since they are fogged with terrible tenderness toward himself. O’Connor discerns that The Misfit’s alternative to the hard realism of the gospel is not an equally hard nihilism but a squishy self-pity.”

O’Connor says of the Misfit: “I prefer to think that, however unlikely this may seem, the old lady’s gesture, like the mustard-seed, will grow to be a great crow-filled tree in the Misfit’s heart, and will be enough of a Pain to him there to turn him into the prophet he was meant to be.” Also, she says of the grandmother she should not be taught as if she is a witch, complete with a familiar (her cat). She notes, “It is true that the old lady is a hypocritical old soul; her wits are no match for the Misfit’s, nor is her capacity for grace equal to his; yet I think the unprejudiced reader will feel that the Grandmother has a special kind of triumph in this story which instinctively we do not allow to someone altogether bad” (M&M, “On Her Own Work” 110).

Here are some emails on the reading of "A Good Man is Hard to Find." There are no right interpretations for these stories (unless the concepts do not match up with the words, and even then, who knows?)--we all see through our "lens" to use the term that Kathy and Turner both used last night.Jeremy asked, What does the title mean? So we talked about O'Connor's emphasis on original sin (no one is good!)) and the fact that it's an ironic title. The Misfit is not good, ALTHOUGH the not so good grandmother wants him to be and is still trying to manipulate him with that cliché all the way to the end of the story. Another thing to ask is it better to be "good" or authentic? Good is awfully subjective and hard to define. And who among is truly authentic. In a discussion of "The Life You Save May Be Your Own" by Paul Elie, Jen Smith said that it's best to try to be good and authentic-- like Dorothy Day, Merton, O'Connnor, and Walker Percy, who at least, seem to be....

Kathy had a psychological/restorative justice reading of the text: Family is highly dysfunctional and grandmother is obnoxious due to being ignored/treated rudely/having to be subservient (I always say that's why Eve took the first bite :-). Being pressed into a subordinate role makes people passive aggressive and desperate for agency).

Rebecca Loy had several interesting takes: One, this story represents a type of judgment of Christ. That's it! You don't get another chance. (Jeremy also spoke on this idea a bit). And two, Rebecca pointed out that the Misfit went underground (in prison) and resurrected much like Christ. And three, that the Misfit has moved from being a nihilist saying" There is no pleasure but meanness" to "no real pleasure in life"--indicating perhaps that he had moved philosophically and could become the prophet that O'Connor says he could be. BTW, both Turner and I used the word nihilist last night. It means someone who believes in nothing. It can be pronounced as ne-hilist (long e sound) or ni-hilist (long I sound). All last spring I pronounced it nehilist in my last class and that's harder for me to say so I've switched to the long I version).

Turner said that the Misfit is like Jesus overturning the tables in the temple.Colette pointed out that the grandmother had to lose everything to gain her soul--so she lost her security (with Baily) and family members. (This, of course, is a basic teaching in all religions.)

Rebecca Hirst and Debbie Gayk both reiterated the idea that the lady-like grandmother could not cling to her "pristine" lady-like persona when faced with death. She thought of herself as attractive and was obviously NOT to most of us. Rebecca pointed out that we all think that we're pretty cool and attractive when maybe people are seeing a different thing.Lynn pointed out that the Misfit's eyes look vulnerable at the end of the story which is a motif that you will see again in good country people--take off your glasses and maybe you can see better. Lynn's interpretation is one that I prefer to Wood's. I'm not sure that Wood has it right about the squishy self-pity (see handout).

David G. asked the question, would a Catholic reading be different from a protestant reading of the story?Dan Scaperoth--said that the grandmother had to be shot three times since she was so bad and everyone else got only one shot.

The takeaway question: So what kind of person would you be if you knew that someone would shoot you every minute of your life?--and no second chances with plea-bargaining. We're all gonna die....and we might die suddenly like the Clutter family in Capote's Cold Blood that Turner mentioned. Right now there are an estimated 300 serial killers loose in the US. (I taught an essay on serial killers last semester). That's the reality of life. But it doesn't have to be serial killers--a wreck, a hurricane, cancer. In Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut says most people when discussing war want to hear "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt." Do we think that way about a life of faith?

Another email:Colette (thanks Colette!) sent me this provocative statement from the great Catholic writer Graham Greene. He is describing a woman much like the grandmother.The setting is in Mexico during a time of Catholic persecution. A priest (the narrator) meets an older woman, both finding themselves arrested and in a small and dirty jail...

"She had the tiresome intense note of a pious woman. They were extraordinarily foolish over pictures. Why not burn them? One didn’t need a picture…He said sternly, ‘Oh, I am not only a drunkard.’ He had always been worried by the fate of pious women. As much as politicians, they fed on illusion. He was frightened for them: they came to death so often in a state of invincible complacency, full of uncharity. It was one’s duty, if one could, to rob them of their sentimental notions of what was good…He said in hard accents, ‘I have a child.’"The Power and the Glory, pg. 152.

Colette observed: It's interesting that there are so many brilliant and very thoughtful Catholic writers of fiction. Are there comparable Protestant or even any Evangelical writers? My response was C.S. Lewis and she also suggested CK Chesterton and Tolkien. But can anyone think of more protestant writers who write not about fantasy, but real, adult concerns and struggles (with their faith as the backdrop)? Do you think that protestants settle for cheap grace and want happy endings (which are not realistic for most--Jesus even says in the world we will have tribulation).

For those interested, here are the questions we used:1. How does O’Connor foreshadow the ending?2. How does Red Sammy’s fit in? What does O’Connor imply about consumerism?2. How does the Grandmother’s “fictions” reveal who she is?3. How would you describe the Misfit’s outlook on the world.4. What can you make of the names in the story? 5. Think about the meaning of the images of blindness and glasses—a recurring motif in O’Connor’s works.

Questions for “Good Country People” (week of June 10)1. How appropriate are the names of each of the characters? Why does Joy change hers?2. How is the color blue used in the story?3. What kind of faith does Hulga have? 3. What does Hulga’s wooden leg represent? 4. Why does Hulga agree to meet with Manley Pointer? Does her experience with him confirm her cynical philosophy on "nothing"? Explain.5. What is Manley Pointer's motive for humiliating Hulga?6. Is there anything ironic about the title? Explain.7. What is Hulga's fatal flaw? Is there a moment of “grace” in this story? 9. Note the way that the story is framed by Mrs. Freeman. What is the significance?

Handout for "Good Country People"

From Franz Kafka: "I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us...We need the kind of books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us."

Audience for this text: the Catholic reader and “the hard of hearing” and “the blind” (refer to first handout). “Ms. O’Connor sought to emphasize the literalness with which she took the traditional doctrines of the church and to separate herself from “those politer elements for whom the supernatural is an embarrassment and for whom religion has become a dept. of sociology or culture or personality development” (Milder 162).

This same critic also notes that she is returning not to Catholic tradition but to an evangelical position of the 18th century.

On Why O'Connor writes about Protestants: From O'Connor: “If you are Catholic you can go into a convent [if have a fervent faith], but if you are protestant and have it there is no convent and you go about the world getting into all sorts of trouble and drawing the wrath of people who don’t believe anything much at all down on your head. This is one reason why I can write about Protestant believers better than Catholic believers—because they express their belief in diverse kinds of dramatic action which is obvious for me to catch” (Milder 162-163).

Other comments from O’Connor on her writing/faith: "Some may blame preoccupations with the grotesque on the fact that here we have a Southern writer and that this is just the type of imagination that Southern writer fosters. I have written several stories which did not seem to me to have any grotesque characters in them at all, but which have immediately been labeled grotesque by other non-Southern readers. I find it hard to believe that what is observable behavior in one section can be entirely without parallel in another....My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable. In some cases, these writers may be unconsciously infected with the Manichean spirit of the times and suffer the much-discussed disjunction between sensibility and belief, but I think that more often the reason for this attention to the perverse is the difference between their beliefs and the beliefs of their audience. Redemption is meaningless unless there is cause for it in the actual life we live, and for the last few centuries there has been operating in our culture the secular belief that there is no such cause."

Her spiritual disciplines: She read Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas every night: “I read it for twenty minutes every night before I go to bed. If my mother were to come in during this process and say ‘Turn off that light, it’s late,’ I with lifted finger and broad bland beatific expression, would reply, ‘On the contrary, I answer that the light, being external and limitless, cannot be turned off. Shut your eyes’ or some such thing”….She also noted, “I read a lot of theology because it makes my writing bolder” (Gooch 228).

Some comments on O’Connor and “Good Country People” (1955): "Her stories and novels characteristically do not close on images of harmony and reconciliation, all passion spent, but in pain and violence and a profound sense of displacement, of permanent exile from the known and familiar—including the final displacement of death. And it is the surfacing of this memento mori at the end of all her works, whether literally on the page before us or metaphorically in those annihilations of ‘identity,’ that provides a final clue to her singular use of the doppelganger motif [a doubling of characters]…[t]he protagonists of O’Connor’s stories all cling to a narrow sense of ‘order,’ whether the ‘balanced’ social order of her many matrons or the dessicated rationalism of the intellectuals, for it allows them to feel safe…the double figure …embodies all that has been denied in order to create the inflated ‘invulnerable’self” (Frederick 209).“The relationship between the two women which frames the central action thus turns out to be a less sinister version of the encounter between their real and symbolic children. Like her daughter, Mrs. Hopewell persuades herself that she is in control of the situation, and like her she is self-deceived, for it is Mrs. Freeman with her mechanical, ‘driving’ gaze, her imperviousness, and her ability always to get the last word who dominates the relationship. If ‘Good Country People’ does not quite present parallel plots—the central encounter becomes a dramatic reversal, the framing action remains static and ongoing—it does set before us four characters in interlocking reflective relationship, like facing mirrors slightly askew” (Asals 199). And “Everybody is different” is not quite true.

“O’Connor repeatedly stressed her concern as a writer with the operations of supernatural grace, but its workings, she said, are not those of a ‘healing property,’ not ‘warm and binding’ but deeply ‘disruptive,’ ‘dark and divisive.’ The Christological passage she most often cited (Matthew 10:34) gives a precise description of the effect of her double figures: “Think not that I came to send peace of earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.’ (Asals 209).

But lest you think that O’Connor is ALL DARK here is what Wood has to say in his new esssay “God May Strike You Thisaway”: [Since Hulga is not slain, this is a hopeful sign] “It may mean that Hulga has begun to make her way back toward the embrace of her true name: Joy” (51).
To help with references in the story:

From the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:“The French Cartesian Nicolas Malebranche (1638-1715) was hailed by his contemporary, Pierre Bayle, as “the premier philosopher of our age.” Over the course of his philosophical career, Malebranche published major works on metaphysics, theology, and ethics, as well as studies of optics, the laws of motion and the nature of color. He is known principally for offering a highly original synthesis of the views of his intellectual heroes, St. Augustine and René Descartes. Two distinctive results of this synthesis are Malebranche's doctrine that we see bodies through ideas in God and his occasionalist conclusion that God is the only real cause.”

Martin Heidegger (1889-1976): “Instead of looking for a full clarification of the meaning of being, he tried to pursue a kind of thinking which was no longer “metaphysical.” He criticized the tradition of Western philosophy, which he regarded as nihilistic, for, as he claimed, the question of being as such was obliterated in it. He also stressed the nihilism of modern technological culture. By going to the Presocratic beginning of Western thought, he wanted to repeat the early Greek experience of being, so that the West could turn away from the dead end of nihilism and begin anew. His writings are notoriously difficult. Being and Time remains still his most influential work.” (From Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

The passage from Heidegger about nothingness explained (somewhat): [He] argues that the whole history of Western thought and life has constituted a sustained exercise in nihilism, that is, a negation of the present world for the sake of an alleged superworld….The ancient affirmations of a transcendent order existing above and below ordinary life…have been linked to oppressive social and scientific systems….Scientists with their vaunted analysis of external reality, ignore the dense richness of the world, pushing it through the sieve of the mind’s reductive categories” (Wood 203).Wood comments that nothing (the unknowable) has “a paradoxically effect: it returns us to the strangeness and mystery of the ordinary world” (203). Can you see this in the story about Hulga when she discovers that she knows nothing? Heidegger notes, “Only when science proceeds from metaphysics can it conquer its essential task ever afresh, which consists not in accumulation and classification of knowledge but in the perpetual discovery of the whole realm of truth, whether of Nature or of History.” (From Heidegger’s 1945 commentary on his rectoral address of 1933 given when he joined the Nazi party) (Wood 203).

Next week's questions for June 17 questions for “Revelation”

1. Why is this story called “Revelation?”2. How does O’Connor use the symbolism of being dirty and clean?3. How does Mrs. Turpin see herself before Mary Grace calls her a wart hog?4. How is Mary Grace a prophet?5. What is the narrator’s attitude toward Mrs. Turpin in the beginning of the story? How can you tell? Does this attitude change, or stay the same, at the end?6. Describe the relationship between Mary Grace and her mother. What annoying platitude does the mother mouth? Which of Mrs. Turpin’s opinions seem especially to anger Mary Grace?7. What do you infer from Mrs. Turpin’s conversation with the black farm workers? I she their friend? Why does she now find their flattery unacceptable? (“Jesus satisfied with her”)?8. When, near the end of the story, Mrs. Turpin roars, “Who do you think you are?” an echo “returned to her clearly like an answer from beyond the wood.” Explain.9. What is the final revelation given to Mrs. Turpin? What new attitude does the revelation impart or how is Mrs. Turpin left with a new vision of humanity?

Until next week. Deborah

9:50:00 AM
by Deborah S.

Monday, June 07, 2010

Evangelism Session #4: Build and Send

As we contemplated the third phase of journeying with people, we looked to the Bible for our example of how to build bridges over obstacles that people have in journeying to the cross. We looked at how Paul spoke to the Athenians in Acts 17: 16-34. The basic principles that we gleaned from Scripture about the builder is that an effective builder begins where the person is at, ends with Jesus and connects the two effectively. I find it really encouraging to talk about what the results were in this specific case in dealing with the Athenians. From verses 32-34 we see that some sneered, some were curious and wanted more, and some believed and followed. What a great example of leaving the results up to God. God will do what He wants to do and He moves in mighty ways to change people's hearts from stone to flesh.


We have access to a lot of resources in terms of apologetic arguments circling around many intellectual, emotional and volitional obstacles to the cross, but our biggest tool as builders to the gospel is prayer. We need to ask God to move in people's hearts, minds, and wills, and also need to have our eyes opened to how He already is moving in people's lives, and prayer is how we do that. In Doug's sermon this past week on the Lord's prayer in Luke 11, he talked about how Jesus instructed us to pray by asking the Father for His kingdom to come, on Earth as it is in heaven (in Matthew's version), and how this really means praying for God's peace over all people in being restored to relationship in people's lives. Prayer is huge in every aspect of our spiritual journeys with people, but especially crucial as we seek to see their obstacles to the cross being built over by the grace of God.

We are called to be bridge builders to the cross as we journey with people spiritually. This means graciously and prayerfully pointing people to the truth that is in Jesus Christ, starting with where they are at, and ending with Jesus.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

On the Gulf Oil Leak

Even though this does not relate to the city directly, our actions locally are greatly affecting issues like this worldwide. I read today CNN's Carl Safini's blog entitled We are all Gulf victims now and it greatly saddens me at what we all have caused in the name of convenience. Maybe it is because I am a veterinarian that I am sensitized to the meaningless death of so many of God's wonderful creatures and feel such a great loss in myself at their passing. A recent news report on the now second worse environmental disaster - the Exxon Valdez oil spill - revealed that while although things may look normal on the surface, even 21 years later, the Alaskan environment is still contaminated. How do I Love God and my neighbor without trying to drastically change most of my consumption habits? Even now, when I think I am doing pretty good, I realize that my habits still support drilling in places like the Gulf, Alaska and other environmentally sensitive areas. Admittedly, I have to pray, "Have mercy on me, Lord Jesus Christ.". God help us all. We're running out of Hail Mary passes.