Christian Piatt Blog

I am a fan of political satire shows such as “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report.”

Like Jonathan Swift, these modern social commentators recognize that one poignant way to comment on the many absurdities in national and global politics is through humor.

Stephen Colbert, the host of “The Colbert Report,” recently interviewed a congressman in his ongoing series, “Better Know a District.” In it, Colbert puts tongue-in-cheek questions to members of Congress, generally causing them to laugh nervously, squirm in their chairs and fumble for the most politically benign response.

One of the many notable interviews included Rep. Lynn Westmoreland, R-Georgia, a politician noted for co-sponsoring a bill to display the Ten Commandments in both the House and Senate chambers. However, when Colbert asked Westmoreland if he could name the Ten Commandments, he could think of only three.

Unfortunately, Westmoreland’s lack of biblical knowledge is indicative of the general American population. A recent USA Today article noted that 60 percent of Americans cannot name at least five of the Ten Commandments, and half of high school seniors polled believe that Sodom and Gomorrah were a married couple.

Theology experts quoted in the article claim that our collective “religious illiteracy” has the potential to be the most dangerous weapon in our ideological arsenal.

“We’re doomed if we don’t understand what motivates the beliefs and behaviors of the rest of the world,” says Stephen Prothero, chairman of the religion department at Boston University. “We can’t outsource this to demagogues, pundits and preachers with a political agenda.”

Rev. Joan Brown, former general secretary of the National Council of Churches, fears that our lack of knowledge has an impoverishing effect. “You can’t draw on the resources of faith if you only have an emotional understanding,” she says, “not a sense of the texts and teachings.”

These only are a few symptoms. In a 2006 poll of young Americans aged 18 to 24, 88 percent could not identify Afghanistan on a map. Sixty-three percent could not find Iraq or Saudi Arabia, and three-fourths were unable to locate Israel or Iran. Following the devastation of hurricane Katrina, one-third still could not find Louisiana on an American map.

It’s one thing to be ignorant. It’s another to speak and act with conviction based upon this ignorance. I would not begrudge anyone a lack of information, but I believe we should be held accountable for decisions we make – as well as people and legislation for which we vote – without the necessary information.

There’s a reason why fascist political regimes ban books and imprison intellectuals. Such information is the most powerful armament of a population. Without it, we are beholden to the very demagogues, pundits and agenda-driven religious leaders who are left holding the keys.

In effect, our willing ignorance is tantamount to handing these keys of power over to those who will seize them. The results can be chilling. One need only look back to the effects of the Crusades to witness the devastating effects of a complicit relationship between politicians and religious heads, unchecked by the general public.

It is assumed that our congressmen and women, presidents, judges, and ministers are equipped with the necessary information to make decisions in our stead, always with the best interests of their contingency at heart. But whom are we fooling?

Today, we are enmeshed in what many would call an ideological war with religiously fueled extremists in the Middle East. It can be argued, however, that on the whole we don’t know what and who it is we’re fighting. What’s worse, we don’t seem to be particularly clear what it is we stand for here at home.

It may be entertaining to watch our political and religious figureheads squirm in the hot seat, but the deeper symptoms to which it points hardly are a laughing matter.

I’ve put off writing my Easter column as long as possible. It’s not that I don’t like Easter; on the contrary, it’s always been one of my favorite holidays. Aside from the celebratory atmosphere at church, it always has represented for me the dominance of spring over the desolate grip of winter.

I love watching children scramble excitedly for eggs, and the smell of tulips and lilies invigorates even the dustiest of souls.

So why the reluctance?

Short of a “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it” approach to Scripture, Easter can be the most challenging phenomenon in one’s Christian faith. Anyone can relate to the birth of a child, and though the threat of death looms at Christmas with Herod’s order of mass male infant executions, little of this creeps into the birth narrative.

However, there is no getting to Easter Sunday without first going through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. It would be pleasant enough to celebrate the empty tomb without focusing on Jesus’ betrayal, imprisonment, torture and crucifixion.

But that’s not really telling the whole story, is it?

I have seen church signs for weeks that say “The tomb is empty!” Well yeah, it’s empty because he didn’t die until the Friday before Easter. There are even churches that have an Easter celebration service on Saturday, which to me is a bit like throwing a party for someone a day before they get there. I know I’m showing my liturgical colors (pun intended), but if we’re not willing to suffer alongside Jesus, even just a little bit, what business do we have celebrating with him at resurrection?

This is not unlike the friends I had in college who drove en masse from Texas to New Orleans every year to participate in Mardi Gras. They would go crazy on Fat Tuesday and come back, adorned in beads and reeking of beer. But by Ash Wednesday they were back to their old routine. They just wanted to show up for the party and ignore the hard part.

Jumping to the party without doing the necessary preparations just doesn’t seem appropriate.

Then there’s the matter of resurrection. Growing up, I was presented with one of those challenging if/then statements that went something along the lines of, “if Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, body and all, our faith is meaningless.”

This worked for me until I got into the typical questioning stage of my life, when I tried to reconcile my understanding of resurrection with the rest of what I knew, or thought I knew, about the universe.

Had I ever witnessed a resurrection? I’d seen trees hibernate and re-emerge right around Easter time. We even have adopted various pagan fertility symbols like eggs, bunnies (wicked procreators, those rabbits) and baby chicks. All of these suggest new life, but none is quite the same as resurrection.

Something from nothing, as in the case of a new birth, is something around which I can wrap my mind and heart. Why? Because I was there when my son was born.

I can understand awakening from the long slumber of winter, not only because I witness the verdant explosion around us every April, but because a strange malaise of my own always seems to lift this time of year.

But life from death? Come on: Who has a context in which that fits? It’s hard to explain other than by saying, “That’s what the Bible says and I believe it.” So if we can’t really even explain resurrection, what does our celebration represent?

It represents a faith whose cornerstone is hope.

It represents an existence in which death is not the period at the end of the sentence.

And for me, it represents a mystery that doesn’t have to be solved; one that can live amid the awe and wonder that helps me remember I don’t have it all figured out.

Living with mystery as part of your faith isn’t a sign of failure. Actually, it’s a pretty good reason to celebrate.

Two weeks ago, I received more feedback about my column-writing than I have in the year since I began writing it.

Ironically, it was the first time my column didn’t run.

The omission was an oversight, though I must admit I wondered what about that particular column was so scandalous that it got yanked. To my relief, there was no drama involved.

Several of the people who asked about the missing column are regular readers who engage me consistently. However, some comments came from people from whom I had never heard before. I heard some of the nicest compliments about my work during the week when I hadn’t done anything.

This got me thinking about what it is concerning us as human beings that causes us to save our best accolades until something which we value is gone.

Funerals sometimes exemplify this regretful hindsight.

In the best cases, a memorial service is a celebration of a full life, as well as an opportunity for those present to grieve the loss of someone they love. Regret sneaks in when the absence of our loved one makes salient the realization that there were personal matters left unshared or grudges left unresolved.

Why do we hesitate to say the things we wish we could? It’s a risk to lay our feelings bare, even to those closest to us, because there’s a little voice inside of each of us that warns us we’re at risk of getting emotionally trampled.

When I was a teenager, my grandfather was dying of cancer. By the time I got excused from school to visit him, he has wasted to about 80 pounds and he rarely left the living-room couch.

He was an emotionally reserved man, and he and I had never been close. But during that visit, he told me stories about his service in World War II, and shared more about his childhood than I had heard in 13 years. Then he did something he had never done before: He told me he loved me. I gratefully did the same, and we shared a wonderfully unfamiliar embrace.

I have another relative for whom I was assigned responsibility for their estate at death. During one particular visit, I mustered the courage to ask them their views on everything from long-term care to life support and burial plans. It was a conversation I dreaded, but one that I knew was necessary.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get the kind of answers I had hoped for. In a nutshell, the person has no long-term care plans, short of living life in the manner they choose until money, quality of life or other factors dictate otherwise.

Then they plan to “take care of things” themselves. Ever since, I have lived with a lingering cloud, wondering when I will get the call to clean up the figurative or literal mess left behind. My only other choice seems to be to divest myself of the role of executor.

I have been blessed by nearly seven years of fulfilling marriage with my wonderful, loving, beautiful wife, Amy. Though she is very comfortable expressing her feelings, I am the stereotypical awkward male who would rather fix problems instead of talk about how I feel.

I struggle past my masculine ineptitude on occasion, but there are some days when I don’t tell her exactly how much I care about her. For some reason, I still get anxious about emotional vulnerability, even with people like her who pose no reasonable threat. So I balk.

We all do.

Consider this the next time those words catch in your throat: Expressions of love and honesty may make for a lovely eulogy, but they always sound better live, in person.

Oscar-winning filmmaker James Cameron claims he has compelling evidence that the remains of Jesus Christ have been found. In a special titled “The Lost Tomb of Jesus,” airing Sunday on the Discovery Channel, he also argues that Jesus had a son with Mary Magdalene, whose name was Judah.

Cameron’s documentary focuses on six ossuaries discovered nearly three decades ago in a tomb in Jerusalem. On the outside of the ancient caskets were inscribed the names of Jesus, son of Joseph, Mary, Mary Magdalene, Matthew, Joseph and Judah, son of Jesus.

What does all of this mean? It depends on whom you ask.

Creators of the documentary claim they have relatively airtight evidence that would prove with 99.99999% certainty that these are the family members and apostle of Christ, as well as Jesus of Nazareth himself. If such assertions were confirmed, it indeed would be the most significant find in the history of Christianity, if not the world.

For those whose beliefs hinge on Jesus’ bodily resurrection, physical remains would rock their entire faith. In addition, the suggestion that Jesus had a family of his own goes directly against some peoples’ image of an eminently chaste savior. It also implies that Christ’s bloodline still may be in existence, which has all sorts of implications.

I grew up in a church where I heard, week after week, the claim that if Jesus was not physically raised from the dead, our faith is meaningless. This was a terrifying prospect to me. The argument goes that if he wasn’t raised from the dead, body and all, then he wasn’t the son of God. He was just a nice guy with some good ideas.

For some, the miracles of Jesus, from turning water to wine all the way to resurrection, are the necessary evidence of his divinity. Without these, he loses his credibility as the messiah. For others, the miraculous is not confined to a few mystical, inexplicable acts recorded in Scripture. Further, the very definition of “miracle” is anything attributed to God, generally inexplicable in human terms.

Given this perspective, Jesus’ resurrection and stories take on a new kind of meaning. Whether or not such events took place exactly as stated in the Gospel texts is less important than the idea that something inexplicable and powerful took place in the birth, life and death of Jesus. God broke into the world, and nothing has since been the same. The miracles then become secondary to the very presence of someone who represented this divine in-breaking, which we still struggle to understand.

The possibility that Jesus married and had children is another affront to some Christians. For those who claim Jesus was without sin his entire life, the concept of him engaging in sexual acts is incomprehensible. This actually says more about how people perceive sex than it does about Jesus.

Scripture doesn’t say if Jesus had sex, a wife or children or not. In the Old Testament, procreation is a gift from God that is necessary to our continuation as a species. Sure, sex is the source of much pain in the world, but to blame the act itself as inherently sinful is like blaming a dollar bill for human greed.

For people whose faith requires rigid “if-then” contingencies, there is no human argument that could sway them. Every scientist in the world could verify the findings of those who discovered the tomb in Jerusalem, to no avail. For others who do not rely on history remaining just as they perceive it, this presents an opportunity for discussion, and perhaps to learn more about our religious ancestry.

Regardless, the very significance of the find, and the debate that surrounds it, indicates the very human fixation of searching for traces of the divine in the world around us. We want to find, once and for all, the thing that will answer all of our open-ended questions.

If such answers existed, there would no longer be a need for faith; we would just know. Personally, it was Jesus’ faith that is most inspiring. If it was good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.

Our understanding of what participation in Communion or Eucharist means varies widely, as do the ways in which – and the frequency with which – we practice it.

As a Disciple, I’ve become accustomed to taking Communion as part of every worship service. As the spouse of a minister, I run as much of a risk as anyone that my observation of this sacred rite will lose some of its significance.

The Greek word koinonia is defined as Christian fellowship or communion with God or with fellow Christians, said in particular of the early Christian community. Socrates remarks on the importance of koinonia when he says, “Heaven, earth, gods, men – all are held together by communion, friendship, orderliness, temperance and justice, prompting us to call the whole world ‘cosmos,’ order.”

This value of koinonia was shared both by Plato and Aristotle, although they had somewhat different takes on its role and interpretation. But one fundamental truth in which they both believed was that true communion – the societal bond rather than the religious ritual – stood in opposition to oppression.

Essentially, people could not come together in true communion while in a master-slave relationship. Koinonia required a leveling of power, a dismantling of hierarchy, so that all are equal in the community. This, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle suggested, was the foundation of justice, order and a realization of the basic greater social good.

This inheres different significance into the ritual practice of the Last Supper. It is not simply a discipline to reenact Jesus’ last meal with his disciples. It is his final rebellious proclamation that together as a unified (re-membered) body of faith, and by re-envisioning (remembering) Christ’s final acts, we are not only all one, but are all equal in the eyes of God.

This koinonia is stronger than the oppression exacted upon the Jews by the Pharisees or the Roman Empire. It is empowering, and stands in the face of any outside force that would challenge it. In sharing this meal, by drawing his followers together, and in asking them not only to do this with him, but to always do it and remember, he offers hope.

It’s been suggested that the meekness of Jesus often is misunderstood. On the one hand, some consider his “turn the other cheek” charge to be a demonstration of passive submission.

On the other, it is seen as a nonviolent expression of power in itself. By turning the other cheek, Jesus actually presents his offender with a conundrum. To strike again with the right hand, the aggressor would have to use the back of his hand, which was viewed as cowardly or weak. To strike with the left hand, which was considered evil or unclean, was vulgar.

Other examples of Jesus’ subversive nature can be pulled from the Gospel texts, though such interpretations are open to question. In the end, we take what we will from all of these biblical stories, based upon our own experience, instruction and personal bias.

Regarding the Last Supper, this kind of understanding not only demonstrates Jesus’ historical and philosophical wisdom and knowledge, but also his ability to see beyond the present, toward a future of which he was an integral part.

Did he know the future? Scripture suggests he didn’t.

Did he have a pretty good understanding of people and the many ways in which they would likely interpret, manipulate and even abuse his legacy? Based on the way things turned out for him, we can assume he expected lots of us not to get it.

This is just another of those human lenses through which we gaze upon the stories with which we are left. Oftentimes, I want to see a dissident revolutionary, so it’s no surprise that’s what I find.

I could be wrong, but I like to think of Jesus sharing one last meal, while at the same time sticking it to the establishment.

Waking up to our evangelical roots

For those who embrace it, evangelicalism represents a religious, social, and even political movement that is at the core of our collective moral well-being. For opponents, it is tantamount to a four-letter word.

Historically, “evangelical” has been synonymous with “protestant.” In Europe, evangelical churches are distinguished from reform churches that follow in the footsteps of the likes of John Calvin, and subsequently Jonathan Edwards. Today, the term is associated with belief in the inerrancy of scripture, the centrality of a personal conversion experience, and faith in the blood atonement of the crucifixion.

Evangelicalism was once a movement more than it was an institution. In response to many of the doctrines of the Anglican Church in the 18^th century, the First Great Awakening gave rise to the Methodist Church. American spiritual leaders such as John Wesley felt compelled to guide our fledgling nation back toward a Christ-centered faith, having become discouraged by the proliferation of alternative practices such as deism, which was embraced by – among others – a number of the founding fathers.

While the early evangelical movement did emphasize all of the values noted above, there was also a call for what was considered a rather radical approach to social justice. This included empowering women in church leadership, the abolition of slavery, and a tireless commitment to the poor within one’s community. Rather than the movement serving as a platform for public policy, it was a reassertion of the core values of the Christian faith which, in turn, were to guide our daily lives as individuals, and as a body of faith.

At the dawn of the nineteenth century, two great religious revivals took place that gave birth to yet another surge in commitment to the American Christian experience. The first meeting was at Credence Clearwater Church in Kentucky in 1900, followed a year later by a much larger revival in Cane Ridge, Kentucky.

This was the spark that ignited the movement known as the Second Great Awakening, and it was from this ferment of spiritual fervor that our denomination first came to be. Again, the focus of this re-imagining of the evangelical Christian role in America was one of justice, hammering away at issues such as racial and gender equality.

I had the opportunity last year to worship at the small church in Cane Ridge where this revival that included upwards of 20,000 people took place. I was with a group of young adult church leaders, and each day a different group led worship in their own cultural tradition. The evening service at Cane Ridge was led by our African-American brothers and sisters.

Some of us who were not as familiar at the time with the history of the Cane Ridge revival made our way up to the balcony of the cramped log cabin structure. But before worship began, the leaders asked all of us to join them in the front.

“No one sits in the balcony tonight,” they explained. It was only later that I understood why.

For nearly two hours, we sang, laughed and cried together as we worshipped God. Together, we gave thanks for the blessing of community, and for the gesture of our religious ancestors who called the African-American congregants down from the balcony during that revival to worship as a united body in Christ.

There are those in the young adult community who believe the Church is positioned for a Third Great Awakening. There are also some who feel our connection to Cane Ridge and the early evangelical movement is over-emphasized. For me, one who is relatively new to Disciples, it offers a connection to a religious ancestry which helps me transcend the present climate of religious partisanship and dogmatic bickering.

It also serves as a charge for those current and future church leaders. Christianity’s great moments in modern history have come not when we focus on establishing boundaries of social decency, but when we challenge, and even cross over, boundaries of ignorance, inequity and oppression.

We are an evangelical church, but only insomuch as we live out the radical justice to which we are called by Christ. It is in serving that we are awakened to our purpose as Christians, and it is through daily acts of justice-centered obedience that the world will ultimately catch the spark of faith which we so urgently wish to share with them.

‘Friends of God’ portrays church on warpath

Alexandra Pelosi’s new HBO documentary, “Friends of God,” portrays dimensions of evangelical Christianity about which many of us have heard but may have never seen.

Pelosi’s trek across (mainly southern) America is equally amusing and distressing.

The documentary has particular relevance today, given that one of the principal figures in the piece is Ted Haggard, former pastor of New Life Church in Colorado Springs. Before getting caught in a tawdry scandal involving sex and drugs, Haggard availed himself to nearly any media outlet in the country who sought his perspective on God and morality.

“This week, we have HBO with us,” he says, filmed during a worship service. “Last week it was CNN and next week it’s the History Channel or someone else.”

Haggard believed that his open-door media policy and frank approach to proclaiming his beliefs were key to evangelism. Little did he realize that, one year after the taping of this movie, he would be caught violating his very own principles.

“We say moral purity is better than immorality. We say telling the truth is better than telling a lie,” says Haggard. “We are the ones with the role to say there is a moral plumb line and we need to rise up to it. That’s also why secular people are so concerned when the church doesn’t fulfill its own moral stand, like if a pastor falls into corruption or becomes dishonest. Even secular people want godly people to be authentically godly.”

Chalk it up as one more example of religious hypocrisy.

There’s plenty more of interest, not the least of which involves wrestling for Jesus. A group of professional wrestlers tour the country, putting on displays of strength, agility and dramatic violence, followed by a call to commit one’s life to Christ.

The leader of the group, a burly, sweaty man in a spandex unitard, claims that approximately 10 percent of every audience for which they perform is saved. Who knows what he bases his claim on, but he believes what he is doing works.

Hot rodders for Jesus debate the age-old question: “What would Jesus drive?”

Pastors in pith helmets and khakis present arguments to young children about how dinosaurs and people lived side by side, and how the Earth is only a few thousand years old. Behind one minister delivering such a talk, the words, “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it,” are emblazoned in bold across a giant screen.

Those 10 words summarize the theology of most of the folks portrayed in the film.

One criticism of the film is that it portrays a fringe group of evangelicals that don’t represent the broad spectrum of such Christians in America. However, if only the tens of thousands shown in the film alone share such militaristic sentiments, it’s enough to raise an eyebrow.

Throughout the film, phrases such as “cultural war” meet with seas of nodding heads and enthusiastic applause. Though it can be argued that evangelicals seized the reins of American power in recent years, there is a pervasive sense of dignified martyrdom.

There is, as portrayed by the film, a movement afoot to reclaim the nation which is believed to have been founded on their own principles. One touring concert, called Battlecry, draws five-figure crowds of youth across the country, urging them to fight for what they believe, at any cost.

“This country is the best country in the world,” says one self-proclaimed conservative comedian. “It’s better than Europe; that’s why we left.” Cue the standing ovation.

Still wonder why the rest of the world views Americans as arrogant, self-righteous bullies? Flags and crosses blend into a single amalgam of theocratic fervor, portraying a section of our country that believes it’s their preordained right to press their agenda by any possible means. After all, they’re friends of God; how could they possibly be wrong?

We’ve all witnessed the early political positioning of many likely presidential candidates for next year’s election.

Most of the high-profile contenders so far are on the Democratic side, though several Republicans have thrown their hats into the ring. It’s amazing that a day doesn’t go by that we don’t hear something from one of the handful of frontrunners, causing me to wonder how sick of it all we’ll be by the time it’s all over, nearly two years from now.

No wonder we seem to resent politics. It takes way more of our time, energy and money than it deserves. Evidently, however, some people feel like they have no time to lose.

I got one of the most troubling and offensive e-mails this week that I’ve received in a long time about the most formidable male Democrat in the pack, Barack Obama.

Many people are ecstatic about his campaign, which is rare for a freshman senator these days.

Abraham Lincoln came from the same state and had about the same degree of political experience as Obama when he ran for president, but the political machine is a different animal today. Generally there are rites of passage through which one must progress to reach center stage, but Obama has been catapulted into the spotlight following his 2004 Democratic National Convention keynote address.

There’s no denying that Obama has intense charisma, a strong intellect and a way with words that makes certain of our current leaders pale by comparison. It’s also clear that he’s relatively young at 45 years old, and that he lacks the experience of many of his opponents. Had the e-mail I received focused on these points, or even on his positions on the war, ecology or human rights, I would have respected it, whether I agreed or not. None of this was included, however.

Instead, this missive, which has been forwarded to God knows how many people, sinks to a level of character assassination that was hard for me to believe, especially before the primary races have even geared up completely. His middle name “Hussein” is mentioned three times, and at one point, the e-mail even “misspells” his name as “Osama.” No joke.

It’s also mentioned that his father is Muslim and his mother is atheist. It talks about his parents’ divorce, says his mother married another “radical” Muslim, and that Barack attended a Wahhabi school as a child. According to the anonymous author of this e-mail, this is where all of the terrorists that attack America are trained.

Yeah, the guy’s name is Hussein, which is one of the most common Muslim names in the world. The effort seems to be to associate him with Saddam Hussein, simply because they have the same name. I suppose, by this rationale, we should condemn everyone with the last name of Jones, since Jim Jones ruined that one for everyone.

Also, the claim that Obama went to a Wahhabi school simply is a lie. He attended a madrassa for two years, which is no different than any other religiously affiliated school. Some will suggest differently, but there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary.

It appears to me that an intelligent, powerful black man scares the hell out of some people. This sort of polemic has more to do with melanin than it does ideology or family history. The e-mail alone would not be enough to raise my ire, but Fox News actually has carried a report about this. When such ignorant, hate-based slander becomes national news, it’s the sign of a broken system, and unfortunately, it’s only going to get worse.

It’s been said that great minds dwell on ideas, while average minds contemplate events. Meanwhile, feeble minds are content to focus only on other people. Clearly, this e-mail falls into the latter category, but the Internet has given it legs.

While the information superhighway has created a more egalitarian forum for the exchange of information, it also places a greater burden upon each individual to discern the difference between thoughtful ideas and garbage. I hope the majority of the country can tell the difference, and that it matters.

Anyone who follows church politics knows that homosexuality is one of the most divisive religious issues we face. The Episcopal Church is on the brink of a national split, based principally on this issue. Meanwhile, just up the road, a mega-church is still reeling from the news that their leader engaged in some form of homosexual extracurricular activity.

Like a phoenix from the ashes comes a summit to be held in, of all places, Colorado Springs. Religious leaders and thinkers from across the sociopolitical spectrum will come together for three days to discuss homosexuality and the church in a respectful, thoughtful environment. The purpose of the event is to begin engaging in constructive dialogue about something that threatens to divide an already weakened Christian community.

Despite how you feel about sexuality with respect to scripture, it’s in our best interest as Christians to deal with this in a matter-of-fact way. For some, it’s a moral wedge issue. For others, it’s a call to justice and equality. The idea that both parties will take the time to discourse about their beliefs – and even their differences – is encouraging.

My only wish is that the debate could move beyond the conceptual level, though this is better than nothing. As long as we’re simply discussing issues and ideas, we’re not likely to get much further than agreeing to disagree, with an amicable willingness to coexist.

If the summit included first-hand accounts from gay and lesbian clergy, or from family members of gay people, we’d start to get past ideology and begin dealing with the flesh and bone of the matter. After all, we’re talking about people, not issues. Still, the face time offers hope, suggesting that some Christians still are willing to share a table together, even if they don’t see eye to eye.

Then, just when you thought it was safe to wade back into the religious waters, a volley is fired over the bough.

The Southern Baptist Convention still claims that women should not be allowed to preach or lead churches, based upon a verse in I Timothy, wherein the author – who some claim is Paul – says, “I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent.” The issue entered the media spotlight this month when Dr. Sheri Klouda, a tenure-track professor of theology at Southwest Theological Seminary since 2002, was fired on the grounds of her gender.

Under the leadership of Paige Patterson, the seminary’s current ultra-conservative president who was hired after Dr. Klouda became a professor, the school is returning to a “traditional, confessional and biblical position that women should not instruct men in theology or biblical languages,” according to Van McClain, chairman of the Southwestern trustees.

Clearly, I have a strong personal bias about gender roles in the church, but it’s hard for me to imagine that we still discriminate in any professional role based upon body parts. It’s tragic to justify oppressive, discriminatory behavior “because the Bible says so.” I also believe it’s un-Christian.

The Bible tells stories about men selling their wives into slavery, fathers giving up their virgin daughters to angry mobs, concubines and teen marriage. Shall we observe these traditions, “because the Bible says so?” Everything from indentured servitude to genocide has been carried out with one hand on the Bible. That doesn’t make it right.

I’m glad we’re making progress in some arenas, but the fact that we are still contending with such issues as sexual orientation, ethnicity, socioeconomic status and gender in the church is disheartening. Some might say I should be happy with any development at all, but I expect more from the church.

Bottom line: Love trumps gender roles for kids

James Dobson wrote a Dec. 18 editorial in Time magazine about Mary Cheney, her pregnancy and her plan to raise the child with her partner, Heather Poe.

Dobson wastes no time building a body of scientific evidence about why this is inappropriate.

Three decades of social science indicate children are best off when raised by a male and female, both of whom are their birth parents. Though he concedes the couple undoubtedly will love their child, he goes on to argue that “love alone is not enough to guarantee healthy growth and development.”

He quotes several sources, from Dr. Kyle Pruett of the Yale Medical School to Psychology Today. Most indicate that both male and female caregivers offer unique pieces to a child’s overall upbringing.

Dobson is right. Love alone doesn’t guarantee healthy development. He’s also right that it’s best to have both a male and female role model for children. My graduate work was in child development, and I would not argue with either of these statements.

He then uses these premises to assert that not only childbirth, but also adoption, is “the purview of married heterosexual couples.” Finally, we get to the essence of his position: Gay people don’t deserve to raise children.

He softens his claims with verbal buffers like “with all due respect,” and “Focus on the Family does not desire to harm or insult . . .” If I were she, I’d be insulted.

Granted, all of the research does suggest that children do best with male and female figures. This, however, does not mean that both role models must be birth parents. The leap from scientific evidence to his desired endgame is fallacious.

Second, though love is not enough to guarantee positive development, there is no other combination of factors that will guarantee this either. Just because someone is raised by their birth parents does not guarantee they will receive the care and love they require for optimal development.

A couple in our family decided to adopt a girl into their existing family of four, more than a decade and a half ago. She is black and the other family members are white. There was some discussion about the challenges this could present, both for the parents and the child. They went ahead with the adoption anyway. Less than two years later, they received a call that the same mother had another child, whom they also adopted.

True to expectations, their life together has not been perfect. Though they sought out an African-American woman to be their adopted grandmother, they lack some ethnic identity with their family of origin. But they’ve definitely fared better than they would have with their birth parents, one of whom has disappeared, and one of whom is dead.

Before you start your letter to the editor, I recognize both that the couple I’m referring to is a married heterosexual couple, and that the situation involves adoption rather than artificial insemination. Would I prefer that Ms. Cheney would adopt? Absolutely. There are enough children in the world in need of a loving home that I consider this a more reasonable alternative to artificial means of getting pregnant. Is it my right to tell her what she can do with her reproductive system? No more than she has a right to tell me what to do with mine.

Dobson’s argument holds water in a perfect world, which we don’t have. Ideally, every child would be born into a family where they are wanted, anticipated and loved before they take their first breath. What children need more than anything else is love offered generously and modeled. Whom the parents love is secondary to the need for the love to be healthy and real.

As for a father figure, Dick Cheney will soon have plenty of time on his hands. As soon as he hears that baby gurgle in his arms, my guess is he’ll be the proudest grandpa in the world.