University of Michigan campus. "Angry Neptune," by Michele Oka Doner. |
University of Michigan campus. "Angry Neptune," by Michele Oka Doner. |
(I'm re-posting this for a friend.)
Jesus looked on the crowds and,
seeing they were like sheep without a shepherd,
had compassion on them.
Matthew 9:36
In my fifty-four years of following Jesus, my compassion for people has grown.
The word compassion means to feel with others. Jesus told me, years ago, that my capacity for feeling with others must increase. Here is one way Jesus has mentored me in compassion.
I had just finished my seminary degree. My plans were to go immediately to a doctoral program. This did not happen. I applied to two universities. Both applications were too late. I would have to take a year off my studies.
I needed a job. My sister-in-law Lora was working as a teacher at United Cerebral Palsy Center of Will County, Illinois. She suggested I apply as a teacher's assistant.
I interviewed with the Director of the United Cerebral Palsy Center. Her name was Gretchen Lantz. For part of the interview she took me to the boys' bathroom. She said, "I don't want to mislead you. You will be spending a lot of time in this room toileting handicapped boys and young men."
I took the position. Over the next year I fell in love with students like James, Helen, David, Jimmy, Tony, James, and Gail. My heart aches a bit as I write these names. I grew to feel with them. That feeling is still part of me. Jesus, my Lord and Teacher, had a brilliant idea for me. He was mentoring me in having a heart of compassion.
When the year was over, I enrolled in a doctoral program at Northwestern University. I continued working as a teacher's assistant at the Cerebral Palsy Center for two additional summers. The disabled students had become my instructors.
I began to look at others in order to understand, not judge. The more understanding I gained, the more I felt with them. Just as Jesus is able to “sympathize with our weaknesses,” so am I.
This is how disciples of Christ feel. Apprentice yourself to Jesus, and you will experience the same.
I would not be Jesus's disciple if I looked down on the people Jesus came to rescue. In my weakness, Jesus came to me and loved me. In the same way, I am to love others.
Disciples of Christ go deeper. This is where the Pharisee missed it, as he said, “Thank God that I am not like these other horrible people.” He failed to understand that he was. The result was, no compassion.
The secret to a compassionate heart is understanding. The more I comprehend about a person, the more I feel as they feel. The more I feel as they feel, the more I love.
I want to be more like Jesus! He sympathizes with my weaknesses. His influence causes me to grow in compassionate understanding of others. Who am I to look down on others in their infirmities?
My dear brothers and sisters, I long for this to be your experience.
DECLARATIONS
I am increasing in compassion towards others.
I focus on understanding people, not judging them.
I know that understanding always precedes evaluation.
My heart goes out to people who are struggling.
I am a rescuer of people.
As a student in the School of Jesus, I am learning how to love as Jesus loves.
(From my book 31 Letters to the Church on Discipleship.)
(Cancun)
The culture war is a battle for the meaning of words.
In her book Another Gospel Alisa Childers gives her definition of 'deconstruction.' She writes:
"In the context of faith, deconstruction is the process of systematically dissecting and often rejecting the beliefs you grew up with. Sometimes the Christian will deconstruct all the way into atheism. Some remain there, but others experience a reconstruction. But the type of faith they end up embracing almost never resembles the Christianity they formerly knew." (Childers, Another Gospel?: A Lifelong Christian Seeks Truth in Response to Progressive Christianity, p. 24).
Elsewhere she adds, "[Deconstruction] has little to do with objective truth, and everything to do with tearing down whatever doctrine someone believes is morally wrong."
That's incorrect. 'Deconstruction' has nothing to do with "tearing down," and its antonym is not "reconstruction." Childers uses a pop-version of 'deconstruction' as dismantling or tearing down. If 'deconstruction' were but another way to say "tearing down" then its employment is uninteresting, and hermeneutically impotent. 'Deconstruction,' in the scholarly sense, is far more interesting and provocative.
Pay attention now. This is from David Gunkel's book Deconstruction.
"If you ask someone to explain it [deconstruction], what you typically get is a rather confused shell game of word substitutions, where “deconstruction” is loosely associated with other concepts like “disassembly,” “destruction,” “reverse engineering,” or “the act of taking something apart.”
Despite the circulation of these familiar (mis)understandings, the term “deconstruction” does not indicate something negative. What it signifies is neither simply synonymous with destruction nor the opposite of construction. As Jacques Derrida, the fabricator of the neologism and progenitor of the concept, pointed out in the afterword to the book Limited Inc: “The ‘de-’ of deconstruction signifies not the demolition of what is constructing itself, but rather what remains to be thought beyond the constructionist or destructionist schema.” For this reason, deconstruction is something entirely other than what is typically understood and delimited by the conceptual opposition situated between the two terms “construction” and “destruction.” In fact, to put it schematically, deconstruction comprises a kind of general strategy by which to intervene in this and all the other logical oppositions and conceptual dichotomies that have and continue to organize how we think and how we speak. (Pp. 1-2. Italics mine. See Gunkel's chapter on deconstruction's (Derrida's) indebtedness to Hegel.)
Let's give a hat tip to Jacques Derrida. "Deconstruction" originated with Derrida. Since then, it is used in a variety of ways that are alien to what Derrida was saying. Often, perhaps always, the more a term is used, and as it enters public domain, it becomes misused, and gets vaguer and vaguer. This is what has happened to "deconstruction," which in America, has become synonymous with "destruction."
Now... fasten your seat belts or, perhaps, just eject... here is one of the best explanations of "deconstruction" I have read. It's from Christopher Norris's book Derrida.
Don't be offended as I say this. If you don't have some grasp of what Norris is saying, then you don't understand deconstruction. If you don't understand deconstruction, then wisdom says don't use the word. But, alas, this is what people do. I've done it too; viz., use words that, when I am pressed, I am unable to explain.
Norris writes:
"Deconstruction is neither 'method' on one hand not 'interpretation' on the other. In fact it is not too difficult to come up with a concise formula that would make it sound very much like a 'method' and yet describe accurately some of Derrida's most typical deconstructive moves. What these consist in, very briefly, is the dismantling of conceptual oppositions, the taking apart of hierarchical systems of thought which can then be reinscribed within a different order of textual signification. Or again: deconstruction is the vigilant seeking out of those 'aporias', blindspots or moments of self-contradiction where a text involuntarily betrays the tension between rhetoric and logic, between what it manifestly means to say and what it is nonetheless constrained to mean. To 'deconstruct' a piece of writing is therefore to operate a kind of strategic reversal, seizing on precisely those unregarded details (casual metaphors, footnotes, incidental turns of argument) which are always, and necessarily, passed over by interpreters of a more orthodox persuasion. For it is here, in the margins of the text - the 'margins', that is, as defined by a powerful normative consensus - that deconstruction discovers those same unsettling forces at work. So there is at least a certain prima facie case for the claim that deconstruction is a 'method' of reading with its own specific rules and protocols. And indeed, as we shall see, the above brief account of Derrida's deconstructive strategy does provide at least a fair working notion of what goes on in his texts." (p. 19)
Let me add a teaser here. For Derrida, deconstruction considers all subject predicate sentences (of the form S is P) false. To understand deconstruction includes understanding why Derrida thinks this way. And it is to understand why, for Derrida, writing is inferior to speech. But who has time to understand such things, except for a pastor like me who only works for two hours on Sunday mornings?
(And, BTW, deconstruction, when understood, has some intractable philosophical problems. Scientists like Richard Dawkins and Stephen Pinker despise it. That's another story...)
The culture war is a batt4le for the meaning of words.
In my recent book I "deconstruct" progressive Christianity. To understand this, one must know what "deconstruction" is. In popular culture it is synonymous with "destruction," with its antonym being "construction." If that's all "deconstruction" means, then it's unnecessary, except perhaps as used to impress others with a big word.
Here's from my book, chapter 15.
"What is “deconstruction?” It does not mean “to destroy.” Please pay attention to this. Postmodern scholar Mark C. Taylor writes:
“The guiding insight of deconstruction is that every structure—be it literary, psychological, social, economic, political or religious—that organizes our experience is constituted and maintained through acts of exclusion.” (Quoted in "Derrida: The Excluded Favorite," by Emily Eakin.)
What deconstruction is, is this. You unravel an event, or a text, to expose what is not there, yet presences itself as required for what is there. Deconstruction is about finding what is excluded, what is absent. Because what is there is only fully understood by what is not there. For example, the letter a is not b, but cannot be understood apart from the excluded b.
James Faulconer writes, "I take that to be the general meaning of the word deconstruction as Derrida has used it: not just using our words and concepts against themselves, but showing what has been left out or overlooked… Deconstruction is used to show that a work does not adequately address something, not that it should have."...
Deconstruction points to marginalized ideas. Christopher Norris, in his biography Derrida, writes, “To 'deconstruct' a piece of writing is therefore to operate a kind of strategic reversal, seizing on precisely those unregarded details (casual metaphors, footnotes, incidental turns of argument) which are always, and necessarily, passed over by interpreters of a more orthodox persuasion. For it is here, in the margins of the text - the 'margins', that is, as defined by a powerful normative consensus - that deconstruction discovers those same unsettling forces at work.”
(Piippo, Deconstructing Progressive Christianity, pp. 219 - 221)
For those who appreciate expertise, here are explanations of deconstruction in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. If you don't understand this, then you don't understand what deconstruction is.
Definitions of Deconstruction – mostly upon Jacques Derrida’s death (2004)
“Mr. Derrida's name is most closely associated with the often cited but rarely understood term "deconstruction." Initially formulated to define a strategy for interpreting sophisticated written and visual works, deconstruction has entered everyday language. When responsibly understood, the implications of deconstruction are quite different from the misleading cliches often used to describe a process of dismantling or taking things apart. The guiding insight of deconstruction is that every structure -- be it literary, psychological, social, economic, political or religious -- that organizes our experience is constituted and maintained through acts of exclusion. In the process of creating something, something else inevitably gets left out. These exclusive structures can become repressive -- and that repression comes with consequences. In a manner reminiscent of Freud, Mr. Derrida insists that what is repressed does not disappear but always returns to unsettle every construction, no matter how secure it seems.”
Mark C. Taylor, “What Derrida Really Meant,” NYT Op-Ed, p. 26, Oct 14, 2004.
“[H]e was known as father of deconstruction, method of inquiry that asserts that all writing is full of confusion and contradiction, that author's intent could not overcome inherent contradictions of language itself, robbing texts of truthfulness, absolute meaning and permanence.”
Jonathan Kandell, “Jacques Derrida, Abstruse Theorist, dies in Paris at 74.”
NYT-Arts, October 10, 2004, p.1.
Derrida himself (qtd. [selectively] in Kandell):
“[In a] 1993 paper he presented at the Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law, in New York, [Derrida] began: ‘Needless to say, one more time, deconstruction, if there is such a thing, takes place as the experience of the impossible.’
and
“[T]o Dinitia Smith, a Times reporter, in a 1998 interview. ‘Deconstruction requires work. If deconstruction is so obscure, why are the audiences in my lectures in the thousands? They feel they understand enough to understand more.’ / Asked later in the same interview to at least define deconstruction, Mr. Derrida said: ‘It is impossible to respond. I can only do something which will leave me unsatisfied.’"
“Derrida partly provided the thrill of sheer nerve: daring to write something that wouldn't just modify interpretations but challenge the entire philosophical and literary enterprise. His was an imperial ambition, one inherited from Nietzsche and Heidegger: don't reinterpret. Uninterpret. Show not just that some formulations are mistaken, but that all are. And that, moreover, they have to be. Show how all of Western thought is based on a type of ignorance or incompleteness, that everyone
who claimed to get the point was missing the point.” Edward Rothstein, “The Man who Showed us How to Take the World Apart,”
NYT-Arts, Oct 11, 2004, p.1.
“Deconstruction, Mr. Derrida's primary legacy, was no exception. Originally a method of rigorous textual analysis intended to show that no piece of writing is exactly what it seems, but rather laden with ambiguities and contradictions, deconstruction found ready acolytes across the humanities and beyond -- including many determined to deconstruct not just text but the political system and society at large. Today, the term has become a more or less meaningless artifact of popular culture, more likely to turn up in a description of an untailored suit in the pages of Vogue than in a graduate seminar on James Joyce.”
Emily Eakin, “The Theory of Everything, RIP”, NYT Week in Review, p. 12.
(Ann Arbor)
The culture war is a battle for the meaning of words.
One of my recent books is Deconstructing Progressive Christianity. In it, I define the term "deconstruction." Perhaps this is the most misunderstood word in America today.
Here is what it does not, and does, mean, to vaccinate us from the fetid swamp of banality,
"Despite this seemingly unrestrained proliferation of the word across the vernacular, “deconstruction” remains a kind of slippery signifier and empty placeholder. We all kind of know or at least think we have a sense of what the word indicates. And yet, if you ask someone to explain it, what you typically get is a rather confused shell game of word substitutions, where “deconstruction” is loosely associated with other concepts like “disassembly,” “destruction,” “reverse engineering,” or “the act of taking something apart.”
Despite the circulation of these familiar (mis)understandings, the term “deconstruction” does not indicate something negative. What it signifies is neither simply synonymous with destruction nor the opposite of construction. As Jacques Derrida, the fabricator of the neologism and progenitor of the concept, pointed out in the afterword to the book Limited Inc: “The ‘de-’ of deconstruction signifies not the demolition of what is constructing itself, but rather what remains to be thought beyond the constructionist or destructionist schema.” For this reason, deconstruction is something entirely other than what is typically understood and delimited by the conceptual opposition situated between the two terms “construction” and “destruction.” In fact, to put it schematically, deconstruction comprises a kind of general strategy by which to intervene in this and all the other logical oppositions and conceptual dichotomies that have and continue to organize how we think and how we speak."
Gunkel, David J.. Deconstruction (The MIT Press Essential Knowledge series) (pp. 1-2). MIT Press. Kindle Edition.
There you go. If you don't understand that, then you don't understand deconstruction.
(Black-capped chickadee, on our back deck) |
(I'm re-posting this for a friend.)
Last week Linda and I celebrated our 51st wedding anniversary. We drove four hours to a Michigan beach town and spent four days together.
We walked, talked, sat on the beach, read books, had some good meals, sat by the pool, browsed, shopped, ate some fudge, and I had cherry peach pie. On the way home Linda led us in a praying time.
We gave gifts. And said the words, "Thank you."
"Thank you" is part of our marital arsenal. "Thank you" is a super weapon. We say these words, to each other, a lot.
"Thank you for the gift."
"Thank you for mowing the lawn."
"Thank you for the tuna salad sandwich."
"Thank you for doing the dishes."
"Thank you for finding my phone."
"Thank you for the reminder."
"Thank you for washing the clothes."
"Thank you for making the bed."
"Thank you for vacuuming."
"Thank you for the flowers."
"Thank you for all you do for me."
Thank you, thank you, thank you...
When people fail to say "Thank you" it can come off as entitlement. We see the entitlement disease in Luke 17:11-19.
11 Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy[a] met him. They stood at a distance 13 and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”
14 When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.”
And as they went, they were cleansed.
15 One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. 16 He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
17 Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? 18 Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?”
19 Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”
When you stop saying "Thank you," often, you are taking the other person for granted.
Saying "Thank you" places you in a vulnerable position. This is why some don't say the words.
We don't have the perfect marriage. But we have both told God "Thank you," countless times, for bringing us together. We spoke these words again, both to God and to each other, as we celebrated 51 years.
Saying "Thank you" is one of our little secrets to a healthy marriage.
***
See also One Simple Secret to a Healthy Marriage.