The Limits of Empathy and Why Men Can't Be Feminists

Recently, during a class session when we were talking about theologies that were different than our own, I started thinking about empathy. Some students were quick to identify themselves in those theologies, to which I cautioned them not to be so quick to "find themselves"therein. For example, James Cone, one of the leading African-American liberation theologians, has been influential in and instructive to my own theology.  However, when he was writing in the 1960s and 1970s, he was not writing for me or any other white person. White theology had already been done repeatedly; he was doing something new.

This led to the conversation of: can we empathize with those who have experiences different from our own? Can we situate ourselves in a theology that is drawn from experiences radically different than our own? How do power dynamics and power differences affect our ability to empathize?

I read Cone's theology. I appreciate his theology. Yet, I would not dare say I "see" myself in his work. I have no idea what it is like to be judged, based on the color of my skin. I cannot imagine what it is like to be more likely to be suspected of a crime. I cannot imagine the systemic racism, partially overcome and yet still battled, by African-Americans, today. That is not saying Cone's theology is self-serving or has a scope limited to only his context. His theology has a broader message, as all theology should. However, while the message is one of hope, that God is on the side of the oppressed, it is convicting at the same time to those of us who are not on the side of the oppressed, but are, rather, the oppressor.

Simply put, there are limits to empathy. I have always understood empathy to mean that you can understand someone's experiences because you share that experience. Therefore, there are many things with which I cannot empathize. I cannot empathize with the plight of African-American people. However, I can sympathize. When I say "sympathize," I mean more than pity, feeling sorry for them, patting them on the head and giving them a look or shrug that says, "Sorry." However, I cannot empathize because not only have I never experienced racism, but I am also a participant in it, as a white person. I benefit from systems of white privilege, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

This leads to what, perhaps, will be my boldest claim. The limitations of empathy is one of the reasons why I believe men cannot be feminists. There. I said it. So far, on this blog, I have been called a "church snob." This may now lead people to call me a bitch.

Men cannot be feminists because they do not know what it is like to be a woman. Much of feminism is based on women's experiences, while also recognizing that there is no singular experience. However, men have never experienced what it is like to be a woman. Yes, men can be feminist sympathizers--working to promote systems of justice, working to upset systems of patriarchy, etc. Yet, while doing so, men will continue to benefit from male privilege, whether they like it or not. You can strive to be a "non-hegemonic male," but when you walk down the street, when you apply for a job, when you take your car into to be fixed, etc. You are still a man, are treated as a man, and function as one in society.

A lot of men get their feelings hurt when I tell them that they cannot be feminists. "But...but...," they say.  Ready for the really bitchy kicker? I think a lot of men want to claim the title "feminist," in an attempt to absolve themselves from the guilt they feel as a man. The guilt they feel from benefitting from male privilege, sometimes inescapably, and other times willingly. Calling themselves feminists make them feel better. Yet, their experiences are so dissimilar--even from the non-universalized, vastly different women's experiences--they can't empathize with what it means to be a woman.

It was once suggested to me that you can feel empathy toward anyone, depending on the strength of your imagination. However, I disagree; imagination only takes you so far.

Timely Lectionary Gospel Lesson: God And Money

Jesus said, "No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you-- you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, `What will we eat?' or `What will we drink?' or `What will we wear?' For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

"So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today."

 This is the gospel message for this Sunday's lectionary. I had no idea, prior to today, and yet this passage has been on my mind a lot recently. As someone who struggles with anxiety--worrying even when there is nothing to worry about--I remind myself often that Jesus instructs us not to worry about tomorrow.

This passage also goes along with something else about which I've been thinking. Wealth. Jesus makes a pretty powerful statement at the beginning of this passage: "You cannot serve God and wealth." Perhaps this is why I am so uncomfortable with the idea of wealth, money, and being rich. It conflicts with my ability to serve God faithfully, as wealth comes at a price.

Recent research has come out to show the gross inequality in wealth distribution within the US. From this, I draw the conclusion that there is only so much wealth to be had. So when some--a small percentage--have the greatest percentage of wealth, it comes at the well-being of the larger population. Wealth and economic success most often comes at the expense of other human beings; it is earned on their backs.

Jesus commands me to love God with my heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. I do not see how I can love my neighbor if my acquisition of money deprives them of money or other material necessities. Perhaps this is why I have no desire to be rich. I know you aren't supposed to say this, living in the United States. The "American Dream" is to have money and lots of it. Yet, when I do have any sort of excess money (which, I admit, is rare), I am always inclined to give it away. I cannot desire to have a lot, while others have so little. Nor can I live faithfully to Jesus' desire for me if my acquisition of money and/or stuff is an obstacle in loving my neighbor. I don't want to be poor. I would like to have enough money to meet our basic needs, make decisions as consumers that are more sustainable, and extra only to help others. However, beyond that? Not important.

I'm sure people will point to people who have lots of money and do great acts of philanthropy. Recently, the world's billionaires have committed to giving half of their wealth to charity. Good for them, but half of a billion still leaves them with half a billion, which could still make a huge difference in the world. 

So, then, just how seriously do I take this "don't worry about tomorrow" stuff, coupled with inability to serve both God and wealth? What does this mean for planning for the future? 401k's? Nest eggs? Retirement? I'm not sure, yet. However, I am inclined to think there is another way.

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

These U2 lyrics keep playing over and over in my head when thinking about church. This blog has developed into a detailed account of my issues with church. The issues still persist.

I admit, I haven't actively been looking for a church recently, beyond visiting the local Episcopal church. I probably shouldn't generalize from one visit to one church, but I am inclined to say I am not Episcopalian.

I have looked a lot at websites of local churches. I check out their staff, leadership, belief statements, newsletters (to see what is going on in the life of the church), etc. The number of progressive churches within Lake County, Illinois is seriously lacking.  The number of churches that are--if I can say this--worth my time investing in the community, are seriously lacking. In turn, that leaves us in limbo, and without a church community. I don't like that for several reasons, too tiresome to explain right now.

There are two more churches in the area that I would like to check out. One is a Presbyterian church. However, when checking out their website, I noticed that participate in Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University. I cannot stand Dave Ramsey and the hype that surrounds him. His "disciples" tend to be a bit nutty, from my experience, and usually it's a more conservative camp that subscribes to his teachings on finances. So, seeing his name on the website put a bit of reluctance in my mind and heart.  The second church is a United Church of Christ/United Methodist church in the area--"United Protestant Church." They recently had Tony Campolo come speak (which I missed, since I didn't find out til the day of, boo!). That, alone, seems promising. I have no idea how big the church is, the age of the people in it, etc. But if they are open to thinking about social justice and the type of things Tony Campolo pushes people to think about, then that seems encouraging.

Life was so much easier as a child when you just went to church--every Sunday without fail--because that's just what you did. Of course, then, my faith wasn't critical. I was very naive, and I had no idea of the dark side of the church or the Christian tradition.  I don't think I want to go back to that innocence, but it did make things so much easier. Ignorance is bliss?

On the Challenges of the Church--Continued

The devotion book we were given is entitled, 40 Day Spiritual Journey to a More Generous Life. The cover lets me know that it is a bestseller, of 400,000 copies plus translations in 40+ foreign languages.

During the last part of church, I decided to open the book and thumb through it. Bad move. I began to read the daily lesson titles, and I was immediately turned off. Some of these topics include:

• The LORD watches your giving
• Even the poor are to give to God from what they have
• Set up a plan to faithfully give 10% OR MORE of your financial resources to the Lord's work (emphasis theirs)
• Don't live for this life, but for your heavenly home
• Women play a significant part in giving to God's work
• God will reward you for your faithful generosity and diligent labors
• Your giving in this life will have an impact on your experiences in eternity

This is just a sampling of the daily topics. So many things rub me the wrong way about this. I don't know where to begin.

Let's start with the need to point out that women play a role in God's work. As a feminist Christian and a feminist theologian, I, obviously, whole-heartedly agree. However, the fact that this needed to be highlighted in a chapter made it sound more like, "even women play a significant part in giving to God's work." Also, that this was one day out of 40 made me think that the other 39 were all about men. Maybe that's not the case, but that token chapter made me sick.

The chapters about giving in this life will impact experiences in eternity and God rewarding you for your generosity border dangerously on prosperity gospel. A quote by Sir John Templeton states, "...I always saw greater prosperity and happiness among those families who tithed than those who didn't." This basically says tithe and you will have more prosperity.

Another statement that troubled me was that giving 10% or more of your income will "ensure you of treasure in heaven." What?! Is this saying that this will buy your spot into heaven? Or is it saying your spot in heaven will be better if you give; better than those who do not give? This whole notion that giving or tithing will guarantee treasure in heaven puzzles me. Is God's grace not enough?

One thing that really frustrates me about this book is that it is all about money. At our church, we talk about being stewards of and giving of our time, talent, and treasures. Yet, this book is all about treasures, and in that context, it says that even the poor are expected to give from what they have to God. Also, it says that you are only poor when you want more than what you have. Really? That might be true for middle-class U.S. Americans, but tell that to a family living well below the poverty line within the United States, or tell that to people living within poverty-stricken nations of the third world. I think it is safe to bet that for a single-mother who works two jobs to keep the lights on, heat on, some food on the table, and a roof over her children's heads--and still at times comes up short--it isn't her wants that is making her poor.

The book is so out of touch with reality. It is filled with the message of give and you shall receive, and likely you will receive even more. However, I've seen so many people who have given with that expectation and have ended up disappointed. I've seen people give their 10% to the church, when even with that 10% they would not have had enough or have had barely enough to pay their bills, and when due dates come around, they don't get that "extra blessing" they were promised, and they are left unsure what they are going to do and how they are going to do it.

Perhaps I need to be more constructive, rather than critical, regarding giving to God. What does a healthy understanding and a life-giving theology of stewardship look like? I'd love to hear your suggestions in the comment section, as well as your thoughts on this book. As for my own constructive thoughts, I'll save that for another post.

On the Challenges of the Church

My church is entering a time where we are beginning to build an addition to our existing facility. To prepare for this period, we have been asked to participate in a couple of different studies.

The first study is on the biblical book of Nehemiah. We are encouraged, as well, to participate in a small group study of a study guide to accompany weekly sermons. My small group has been unable to find a time that works for everyone, and thus, I have the guide but have done nothing with it.

As part of this study, we were challenged to attend church each week for the next 70 days, bring our Bibles to church, etc. Seeing as I am nowhere near a perfect attendance award at church, that 70-day challenge of weekly church attendance was daunting, and I already failed. In week two.

And bringing our Bibles to church? It's been a while since I have attended a church in which people brought their personal Bibles to the service. I mean, why should I when the words to the scriptural text are on the big screen for me? Back in the day, I took my Bible to church and even had a fancy-schmancy cover in which to carry it. Now? My favorite Bible--my Oxford Annotated New Revised Standard Version with the Apocrypha--has been in my garage since I moved. In June 2009.

However, that challenge and my lack of commitment to it is really about my shortcomings. Yet, this second challenge? I'd like to think its problems are bigger than my inadequacies.

I was confused when we were issued a 40-day challenge to read this devotional, because we are still in the midst of the 70-day Nehemiah study. Then, I realized I was expected to multi-task. Lovely.

I received my family's devotional book, and I was hopeful that this would be a way for hubs and I to settle down, focus on something, and grow together, as well. Yet, when I opened it, I immediately knew otherwise...To be continued.

My Perfect Church

No church is perfect; I know that. As I tell the students in my theology class, the church is referred to as the body of Christ. The body of Christ was broken, and even when raised from the dead, the body of Christ still bore the wounds--the marks of brokenness. Yet, even knowing that the church will always be imperfect, I was dreaming up, this morning what my perfect church would look like.

Here's what I came up with:

• A church that finds its identity in worshipping the triune God, but maintains a respect for other religions and their beliefs and practices.
• Weekly observance of communion, the Lord's Supper, the eucharist--whatever you want to call it. The church community coming together to eat the bread and drink the wine is a profound image of what it means to be the church, together.
• Inclusive language, for God and for humanity. That is not to say traditional trinitarian language cannot be used--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. However, I'd like the church to be creative in its images of God, including the vast array of images presented in the Bible. Language for humanity should always be inclusive. Women should not have to find themselves in the language of he, brothers, sons, etc.
• An emphasis on social justice and on the material needs of people in the community and throughout the world. This would be coupled with a recognized sense of responsibility, including an awareness of the impact our lifestyle choices have on the environment.
• Honoring the calls of all who feel led to ministry. All people should be welcomed to explore their calling into ministry, including LGBT people and women. This should not be on paper only, but should be reflected in the life and ministry of the church.
• Preaching from the lectionary. Sermon series are kind of (okay--really!) cheesy, in my opinion. The lectionary allows broader attention to be given to scripture, and it connects Christians around the world, thereby opening the walls of the church to a larger context.
• Traditional, spirited worship. I used to be all for praise and worship choruses and contemporary worship. However, lately, I've been calling most of these songs, "Jesus is my boyfriend" music. If you heard it on the radio, you would think some teeny-bopper was crooning for their most recent obsession. The hymns and liturgy of the church have been around for hundreds of years. Why do we think we can do it so much better? In an attempt to be relevant, why not change the arrangement of the song? Traditional worship music need not feel like a funeral, with an organ droning in the background. This is what I mean by spirited--that people are engaged and, dare I say, enjoying it.
• A community. Ideally, the church would be multi-generational and have people who are similar in age and lifestyle to me. This makes it easier to form communal bonds. My current church is my community; my small group is not only my community, they are my friends. Honestly, they are some of my only friends. Therefore, I want a church to be a community, out of which relationships are built and friendships are formed.

This is what I came up with. I've surely missed something, and upon mention I might say, "Oh yes! That too!"

So, I ask you to dream with me. What is your idea of the perfect church? Feel free leave your thoughts in the comments.

My Name is Heather and I am Hopelessly Trinitarian

My name is Heather and I am hopelessly trinitarian. My dissertation is on the doctrine of the Trinity. Three is my "lucky" number. I like things in sets of three--candles, vases, even the scrapers used to clean my dishes. As the Schoolhouse Rock song says, "Three is a magic number."

And while I am a trinitarian--and unapologetically so--there have been many times that I have gotten so fed up with the rigidness of traditional Christian denominations that I have been "tempted" by Unitarian Universalism. What? The very name of the church suggests that it is not trinitarian but, rather, unitarian. Right. However, there is also a radical openness to difference of beliefs and difference of paths within the UU that has appealed to me. So, surely, my trinitarian beliefs would be accepted, too. Thus, the appeal.

Until today.

Before I go on, I want to issue a disclaimer that I am not denouncing Unitarian Universalism; that would be exercising the same rigidity with which I have grown tired. I have at least one dear friend who is UU and he has found a home in that church. For that, I am so happy.

Today, while perusing Craigslist ads, I came across an ad for a Religious Education Director at the local Unitarian Universalist Church. It caught my eye. So, I visited the congregation's website and tried to familiarize myself--as much as possible--with the church. I read some of their newsletters, checked out some of their links, etc. The section regarding their beliefs stated they were not creedal and, paraphrased, that no one belief was to be pushed as correct belief. Instead, mutual respect was expected as people explore the path to Truth together. Okay--sounds good (minus this idea of truth with a capital T, with which I struggle, but that's a whole different post).

As I looked around, though, there was very little (if any) mention of "the Divine." There was no mention of God--however you interpret the word. There was talk about love and light. One adult religious education course was about composting. This didn't seem to me--from the admittedly limited glimpse into the life of their congregation--that there was emphasis on the journey for truth/Truth. Composting is great; caring for the environment is vital. Yet, in what way does this fall under "religious education"? It seemed that the language was so vague as to not offend and as to not seem as if certain beliefs were being pushed onto others that I had to ask myself how, then, were people being helped in the formation of their beliefs? How were they being encouraged to journey toward truth/Truth? How were people learning to articulate their spirituality when spirituality seemed to be such a hands-off topic?

A church can say they are non-creedal, in that they don't ascribe to the traditional, historical creeds of the Christian church. They can say that they don't push beliefs onto others. Yet, when it comes down to it--all churches, religious groups, etc. do maintain a certain framework of beliefs. This church had seven principles to which they adhere. And while I agree with all seven of their principles, I have trouble believing that they would be respectful and affirming of me if I said, "You know what? I really don't think peace, liberty, and justice for all. That's my belief. You have to respect and honor it." Likewise, I think their response should be to stand up against those who are against peace, liberty, and justice for all. It just makes the whole open/accepting thing a little messier.

I would love to find a church where, collectively, we can say we believe certain things without judgment or exclusion of those who don't. I want to be open and accepting of people from all faiths and non-faiths, but I also want to be able to live out my faith without fear that I am offending others, while those others are able to live out their faith without fear of offending me or anyone else.

My name is Heather and I'm hopelessly Trinitarian.