the crazy

So last night I wrote this Thing, and then it was time for bed, and I thought (as I often do) oooh, this is pretty bad, but I just spent an hour and a half writing it, so I'm going to press Publish anyway. And I did, and I closed my computer and went to bed.

And this morning I halfway woke up, decided to stay in bed while the kids and Dan got out of the house (because today I can), and thought, oh...what have I done...this Thing probably sounds disrespectful and uninformed and maybe also crazy, which, as nothing else seems to be wrong with me maybe this really is evidence of some descent into madness or something.

And then I thought no, even if I am going crazy, keeping the crazy inside is making me sick, and maybe someday someone somewhere will read the Thing and be able to help me.

And also, I can explain, a bit. So that's what I'll do. I'll write an explanation this morning.

And then when I finally sat up and opened my computer: behold, the Publish button was highlighted but not pushed. The Thing hadn't even gotten out into the world.

Is the universe looking after me after all?

Should I just delete it and move along as if all this never happened?

Nope. In as much as this blog is just therapy for me anyway, might as well just plow right ahead.

So. On Tuesdays, in the parish, there's something called the "Teamgebet," which takes place before the weekly meeting of the pastoral team (the priest Matthias, the two pastoral assistants, and the administrative assistant). It's a group prayer, nothing weird about that, it's a church. Except that the two pastoral assistants and the administrative assistant complain bitterly about it. So long story short, I was curious, and got myself invited, and for the past year and a half the the Teamgebet has consisted of the priest, the two pastoral assistants, the administrative assistant, and me.

This is what happens: Sign of the cross. A couple verses of a hymn from the hymnal. Matthias introduces the topic of the day, often a saint or other church feast day. Then he produces a handout consisting of an illustration at the top followed by a one-and-a-half-page mini-essay. Which he reads aloud. We sing another hymn, he says a closing prayer, that's it.

It sounds relatively harmless. The problem is that the two pastoral assistants also have theology degrees, and it's relatively insulting to make them sit and listen to a grade-school essay about the life of St. Whoever without ever asking them what they think. Particularly on the days when Matthias talks about something that one or the other of them would clearly be more qualified to address. It sets up a dynamic - exacerbated, I presume, by the fact that this posture continues in the team meeting - of Matthias getting to say anything he wants and the others being implicitly or explicitly told to keep their opinions to themselves. "Team" is just the wrong word for what's going on here.

As I'm not in the team anyway, and know next to nothing about the lives of the saints, this doesn't bother me personally that much - I always learn something or at least take away something to chew on. But in as much as the pastoral assistants are my friends, it can be a tough 20 minutes.

Anyway. Last week the topic was Francis Xavier, one of the first Jesuits and missionary to India and Japan. Matthias is fascinated by missionaries. I...am highly skeptical of them. I mean I get it, of course: if you believe that you have been granted the keys to salvation and eternal life, and there are whole swaths of people on the planet who are living in darkness, it's right and noble and selfless go out and preach to them. Except that believing that you personally have been granted the keys to salvation and eternal life is astoundingly arrogant, no? The call to mission is at the core of our Christian gospel: "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations!" But: our religious beliefs are so inextricably woven into our own culture, and evangelization is so inextricably intertwined with colonialism and disrespect for other cultures...it's irresponsible and not at all Christian to fail to own the violence that evangelisation represented and continues to represent. And I don't know how we do that without clearly renouncing the idea that we need to "convert" or "save" anyone. Let's just say: the evangelisation of the peoples is not for me.

Except. Well. A friend posted this Rolling Stone article the other day, and after reading it, I was seriously ready to pack my bags and get on a plane and fly to middle America on a mission trip. Surely, surely we could talk some sense into these people. No: I don't think we can talk sense into them. But I think maybe we can listen sense into them. (How? And who is this "we"? Nothing to see here, move along...)

And here at home: I want nothing more than to save Matthias from himself.

So yesterday's topic was the Immaculate Conception. Which led to the composition of the Thing. Put it through Google Translate if you want, or just let it be.

Mein Lieber,

unser Ziel ist es nicht, zurück in den Garten zu gehen. Es gab nie einen Garten! Die Geschichte von Adam und Eva ist ganz klar nicht historisch gemeint, sondern stellt eine Theorie dar, warum wir Menschen leiden müssen. Meiner Meinung nach geht es nicht hauptsächlich um die Sünde, sondern ums Bewusstsein: wir "haben vom Baum der Erkenntnis gegessen," heisst, dass wir Gut und Böse erkennen können. Die Tiere schlachten einander und haben kein schlechtes Gewissen darüber, aber mit uns geht es anders. Niemand weiss, wie es dazu gekommen ist, aber es gibt kein zurück!

Es gab auch keine unbefleckte Empfängnis und auch keine Jungfrauengeburt. Wenn du diese Glaubenssätze irgendwie mystisch erklären willst, okay, aber wir leben hier im 21. Jahrhundert, lange nach dem Aufklärung - bitte verlange von mir nicht, dass ich meine Ausbildung als Naturwissenschaftlerin leugnen muss, um katholisch zu bleiben.

Und trotz allem, will ich doch katholisch bleiben... Warum? Weil ich glaube, dass wir in der Kirche einen reichen Schatz besitzen, der Menschen helfen könnte. Nicht helfen, im Sinn von "in den Himmel zu kommen", sondern helfen, hier und jetzt ein besseres, erfüllteres, umweltfreundlicheres (!!) Leben zu führen. Aber dafür müssen wir die Wände, die "katholisch" bzw. "christlich" von "menschlich" trennen, Stein für Stein abbauen. Jesus war ein Mensch wie uns. Maria und Josef und Anna und Joachim auch. Und trotzdem ist aus ihnen eine neue Religion entstanden - da ist das Wunder, das wir näher betrachten und reflektieren können!

Meine ich.