Category Archives: everyday theology

What Gives Us Hope

December 1, 2016everyday theology, musings, progressive politicsConnie Tuttle

This post election season is so filled with hate that it makes me wonder who we are. We said it was a referendum on which America we would be… and then Donald Trump ‘won’. He won and the anti-Semites, racists, woman demeaners, LGBT bashers came pouring out of their swamps into the light of day.

Where did they all come from and where are their breeding grounds? As I see Trump’s cabinet fleshing out and filling up it is becoming clear that the breeding grounds are greed, self-interest, privilege, and fear of change. The rich are now in positions of power and leading the charge. They got the votes of people who will, no doubt, suffer from their decisions. Inspiring hate and an ‘us versus them’ mindset will continue to deflect their followers from the more ‘bigly’ truth.

If we were to base our vision for the future of our nation and who we are becoming on those facts it would be easy to despair. We are in trouble, no doubt about it. The coming weeks, months, and years will try us as we have never been tried. I have held dear ones who sobbed in my arms crying, “How do we go on from here?” I have heard from many who fear for their lives. The coming administration is setting us against one another and we all know that will foster distrust, fear, and hate. I wish we were immune but we are not. Don’t think this can’t happen to you or you will not recognize the message when it begins insinuating itself into your life.

In light of all that, what gives hope? And by hope I do not mean optimism. Rather, how do we move forward in the midst of all this in a way that is life-giving?

we can refuse to divide ourselves from the ‘other’ and find our common ground
we can speak out and stand up in situations where someone (even ourselves) are treated like ‘the other’
we can intentionally build interlinked communities of support and action
we can refuse to buy into the idea that there is only one right way to do things and make room for different gifts and skills that individuals and communities bring
we can take back our country one issue at a time and one election at a time.
we can continue to be who we believe we are even when we are afraid.

Fear decimates trust. We can’t afford to be afraid of one another. We are a patchwork of different communities whose borders don’t always touch. We do things differently for different reasons. We have different abilities and different perspectives. Now is the time to utilize all of our resources, to know deeply that there are many ‘right’ ways. Now is when we celebrate what each one, each community, each faith or non-faith brings to the table. Let our kaleidoscope of possibilities give us hope.

We’re All in This Together

November 17, 2016everyday theology, feminism, musings, progressive christianity, progressive politicsConnie Tuttle

There is one thing we can’t afford to do. We cannot afford to say there is only one right way to respond to growing hatred and fear in our nation. If we do we will lose the gifts, the energy, the voices of many of our allies.

We are an aggregate of women, men, non-binary folk, African-American, white, Mexican, Middle Eastern, straight, LGBTQ, young and old, with differing abilities. And if you don’t feel included in the list above, my apologies – because you belong on that list and we are in this together with you, too.

We have a lot to learn about one another. About races other than our own, other faiths than our own – or people who are outside any religious tradition –genders other than our own, sexual identities other than our own, experiences other than our own… you get my drift. All of us are valuable and have something important to contribute.

It may small daily acts, it might be phone calls, it might be marching in the streets, it might be attending anti-racism workshops, it might be offering a safe space for others to speak or grieve, it might be standing up for others even when you, yourself are terrified. It might be becoming politically educated and politically involved. It might even be wearing a safety pin to let people know you are a safe person and that you will stand with them.

We need to empower one another to speak with the voices we have, however disparate. We may need to educate others who stand with us now who not have been visible before.

Are micro-aggressions real? Absolutely.

Does misogyny need to be recognized and addressed cross-culturally? Without a doubt.

Is now the time to confront our own internalized homophobia? Of course.

Do we need to recognize and allow ourselves to be challenged by our different beliefs, cultures, and experiences? For sure.

But if we forget that what binds us is a passion for justice and freedom, if we don’t affirm the humanity of each one, if we refuse one another’s gifts, then we are not nourishing a sustained commitment to one another for this fight.

So here’s my point: we are all in this together. Let us make room. Let us encourage one another to stand and to work in the ways we are able. Let us honor the different abilities we have to do different kinds of work. We have to listen through the things that that trigger us and engage where necessary but we cannot let our differences stop us.

What we share is a commitment. If they fracture us, then they win.

One Thing We Learned

November 9, 2016Christian feminist (radical and otherwise- or is it all radical?), everyday theology, feminism, LGBT theology, progressive politicsConnie Tuttle

Today I need words. Great words. Large thoughts. I need to rise to the challenge of my faith to face hate with love, sorrow with comfort, and fear with hope.

Last night’s election was terrifying. Incredibly sad. Revelations about who we are as a nation shock and terrify us. The underbelly of hatred, fear, persecution, racism, homophobia, xenophobia and misogyny reared up and surprised us with the breadth of their power. And we need to talk about it.

We need to name the miscalculated and often denied venom of misogyny. Racism drove the election, absolutely and in no small ways. Xenophobia drove the election, without question and to our deep shame. But clearly revealed, often not spoken, perhaps unconscious driver in this election was the visceral fear of women in power. Even from liberals and millennials. Even from women. If we are to move forward toward a more just and kind world we must name this form of inhumanity that crosses race and culture and make change. It is some of the most important work before us. Just as it is clear that we are not in a post-racist time, we are surely not in a post-sexist time.

Today I challenge all the young women who told me women’s battles have been won.I challenge all men of good will who have never grasped the depth of our cultural hatred of women. I challenge all women who accept misogyny as status quo.

It is difficult to make this argument given the privilege some women have because of race or wealth, but they are not immune. Race and wealth do not give women the protections we think it does. It rears its head when we are dehumanized by the porn industry and the fashion industry. It bays at our heels when we are dehumanized by sexual assault – either verbal or physical – and hides under our beds passing as a misdemeanor or worse that ‘boys will be boys’. Women and men need to make misogyny a central political and spiritual issue because we live in an age when leaders can brag about ‘grabbing pussy’ and still get elected, when sports heroes are given a pass for rape, and when a perpetrator of repeated incest with a 12 year old gets 6 month jail sentence.

This call to arms does not mean we rest in our fight against racism. It does not mean we rest in our fight for the rights of sexual minorities.It does not mean we rest in our fight for those who have no voice: for the powerless, the poor, children and the elderly. But we also must not rest in our fight against the often invisible, multi-cultural hatred of women.

Wow. I said it. Hatred of women. But that’s what misogyny is. Using the word misogyny just sounds better than saying that the hatred of women drives our culture and politics. Wikipedia’s definition is:

Misogyny is the hatred of, contempt for, or prejudice against women or girls. Misogyny can be manifested in numerous ways, including social exclusion, sex discrimination, hostility, androcentrism, patriarchy, male privilege, belittling of women, violence against women, and sexual objectification.

In the extended article these observations were made by sociologists and philosophers:

According to sociologist Allan G. Johnson, “misogyny is a cultural attitude of hatred for females because they are female.” Johnson argues that:

Misogyny …. is a central part of sexist prejudice and ideology and, as such, is an important basis for the oppression of females in male-dominated societies. Misogyny is manifested in many different ways, from jokes to pornography to violence to the self-contempt women may be taught to feel toward their own bodies.^[4]

Sociologist Michael Flood, at the University of Wollongong, defines misogyny as the hatred of women, and notes:

Though most common in men, misogyny also exists in and is practiced by women against other women or even themselves. Misogyny functions as an ideology or belief system that has accompanied patriarchal, or male- dominated societies for thousands of years and continues to place women in subordinate positions with limited access to power and decision making.

[…] Aristotle contended that women exist as natural deformities or imperfect males […] Ever since, women in Western cultures have internalized their role as societal scapegoats, influenced in the twenty-first century by multimedia objectification of women with its culturally sanctioned self-loathing and fixations on plastic surgery, anorexia and bulimia.^[5]

It is painful to look when a light is shown on the power, pervasiveness, and insidiousness of misogyny when there are many men we love – fathers, sons, cousins, friends, lovers… Women of all colors, all ethnicities, all classes, all sexualities must learn to recognize and name misogyny. We must choose to refuse to hate ourselves. We must speak our truth to power, even to men we love, – only then will we change the world.

Today I call on all good men, all thoughtful women, all institutions of power to name and challenge misogyny where you find it. Everywhere you find it. You will get a taste of what people of color experience when they talk about their experience of racism and are told how they are too sensitive and how much things have changed. You will be embarrassed because sexism is a more acceptable form of oppression, more tolerated, even by good liberals, that you might hesitate to speak up.

But we must speak up. Just as people of color and white people must recognize and speak out against racism, tolerating the discomfort and backlash. So must women and men must learn to recognize and speak out against misogyny and sexism and be willing to tolerate the discomfort and backlash.

Until we do and until we begin to actively work against the real hatred of women we cannot have lasting change for the human race.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Autumn

September 29, 2016everyday theology, memoir, musings, retro-Wednesday, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

I felt fall for the first time yesterday. Fall is a hopeful time for me. I know. I know. Spring is the locus of hope, new life, planting for a year of nourishment, the resurrection… The original season of hope.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the American educational system but, for me, new life begins when the school year starts. As a youngster, I lived in places where the first hint of autumn meant Labor Day and the start of the school year. Fresh pencils, crisp paper, books whose bindings had to be broken in – all things that pointed to a new beginning. Not to mention having a new station in life when you begin a new grade.

So I’m thinking this, however belated, breath of autumn is my season of hope. Forget spring cleaning. The time is now to get rid of the former things to make room for the new ones. I’m a year older and a grade higher. How old and how high is irrelevant. This is the time to turn a page, to open a new chapter, to break in the binding of a new book. My clothes are ironed, my hair smoothed down, my shoes shined and I am ready to begin.

We all know it doesn’t last forever. By Christmas papers will be sticking out of my notebook, the holes torn, my schedule, so meticulously managed the first two weeks will be a splatter of scratchings, and I will be slouching about in a twice worn t-shirt.

But today, today I feel fall. The energy of cool mornings and brisk evenings cast me into a season of hope. So let me go now because I want to organize my pencil case.

The Importance of Raising Righteous Kids

September 22, 2016Christian feminist (radical and otherwise- or is it all radical?), everyday theology, musings, progressive politics, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Mary Boney Sheats, my professor in Religious Studies at Agnes Scott College, encouraged me to think about how I wanted to raise my daughter.

She posed the question, “Do you want her to be innocent or righteous?”

My answer: “Righteous!”

I realize now, more than I did then, what is required to be righteous. You can’t be righteous and uninformed. I allowed my daughter to be exposed to much of the injustice and hurt in the world. As a parent I directed her response toward empathy. I offered an alternative to despair: to work for justice with compassion. I let her know it was okay to be angry. I always pointed out the good or, as Mr. Roger’s mom taught us, ‘to watch for the helpers’.

The ‘innocent’ are walled off from the realities of life. Their protected innocence Isolates them from the complexities of the world and puts them at a disadvantage when they near adulthood. Of course, you give children only what is manageable for their developmental age but keeping children unaware of what is wrong or bad in the world leads to an unrealistic perceptions and expectations. I’m also of the mind that protracted innocence is a source of internal turmoil when one eventually confronts both the evil in the world and the shadow side of the self.

At a certain age innocence transforms into piety, a tricky thing, not all bad, but most often the party is misinformed and reduced to simplistic reasoning about complex issues.

All this thinking about innocence and righteousness points me to the ethical dissonance between the political and religious right and political and religious left. The divide comes down to piety (the right) and righteousness (the left).

Now I’m not saying pious people can’t be righteous but it is not a natural partnership. Righteousness implies a passionate commitment to justice and I just don’t see that as a natural consequence of piety.

Today and in the days to come we need a population of critical thinkers who value justice and admit to the complexities of a multicultural world. We need a population able to make difficult decisions not based only on ones self-preservation but with a commitment to universal justice.

We need to raise righteous children.

The Ravages of Fear

September 1, 2016everyday theology, musings, progressive christianity, progressive politics, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

This morning I asked my friend, Erin why some people have a problem with political correctness. She told me, “They live in a different world than you and I do.” As we unpacked her statement over coffee and muffins, she talked about the fears people live with. Fear of losing their job. Fear of crime. Fear of things they don’t understand. Fear of change. Fear of the other.

If that is true, and I believe it is, then I understand the ravages of fear. Fear seems to give permission to behave badly. To lash out. To take a protective stance that may put others at risk.

Fear is the enemy within. It dehumanizes us to live in fear. It sucks out our compassion and generosity. We react from the reptilian part of our brain that either runs and hides or lashes out as we respond to perceived threats. And when we are afraid almost everything feels like a threat.

My spiritual tradition, Christianity, invites me to a unique response to fear: love. I admit it is the struggle of a lifetime. It is counter-intuitive. It is also empowering. To love in the face of fear taps into a power so much greater than myself. When I live in love even the fear of death is trumped. As my sacred text says: “There is no fear in love but perfect love casts out fear.” 1 John 4:18

The right plays on peoples’ fears and diminishes us a nation and belittles the concept of political correctness even though ‘political correctness’ is just a term for kindness and respect for those who are different. I can’t be kind if I live in fear. That sends me down another rabbit hole: Fundamentalism plays on people’s fear of hell doubles down with anti-political correctness. The thinking seems to be that if I am kind and respectful to those who are different from me in their beliefs or understanding of the world, I am putting my immortal soul at risk.

One the other hand, the left seems to fear truth-telling. I began to hear the term ‘alt-right’ to refer to white supremacists, neo-Nazis, and other extremists, during this election cycle. I cannot help but wonder why we are using ‘soft’ terms to refer to provocateurs and proponents of violence and hatred. We need to name ultra right extremists for what they are. Not out of fear. Not out of some sense of vengeance or retaliation, but because hatred needs to be rooted out of our culture and identity. Hatred, like fear, is an aspiration of the far right that we need to take seriously and oppose vehemently.

If fear is the opposite of love and hatred is the opposite of compassion then let us choose not to hate and choose not to fear. Let us be the radical left that names and stands against that which threatens life and liberty and risks kindness and compassion to those who are different from us- by nationality, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, ability, or race.

Faith and Forgiveness

August 25, 2016Christian feminist (radical and otherwise- or is it all radical?), Circle of Grace, everyday theology, musings, progressive christianity, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

The truth is it is easy not to forgive. When I don’t forgive it feels like I have a protective layer against further emotional aggression. When I don’t forgive my anger feels righteous (whether it is or not). When I don’t forgive there is no way to siphon off my anger.

When I forgive someone who has hurt me deeply I kind of resent it. Perhaps that is not forgiveness. I would rather say it is not completed forgiveness. It has taken me a while to understand forgiveness as solely my internal process. Let me break that down:

Solely, mine alone, without any action or reaction on the part of another, mine to wrestle with, mine to resolve, mine to engage without expectation of changed relationship with anyone other than myself.

Internal, the change that forgiveness makes is in me. In me. In me. Forgiving changes my physiology. It changes how I view the world. It reorients me to something greater than myself, a way that my faith calls me to move in the world.

Process, I have come to understand that forgiveness for any unjust or emotionally harmful event is not a one-time thing. Sometimes I have to forgive a person who betrayed or hurt me several times a day. Each time I do, I move toward wholeness. Process is choosing over and over again to be the person my faith calls me to be. Sometimes I resent that I am choosing to forgive, but I choose it anyway. The process requires time and emotional energy to continue to make the choice until it becomes my default response to painful memories, lost dreams, and dashed hopes.

I know I only do this because of my faith. It is easy to hold anger because the anger seduces me into believing I am protecting myself. It is my faith that instructs me to be vulnerable, to change the world by first changing myself. It is my faith that gives me the strength to continue the process of forgiveness because I don’t always gravitate toward forgiveness.

Take A Stand

July 21, 2016everyday theology, musings, progressive politics, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

The rise of Donald Trump and the ‘tea party’ is frightening at best and prophetic about the path this nation is on at worst.

The last two weeks I posted about listening. I believe that we must listen to one another. But we must also honor the times we are moved to speak.

I am a long time student of Nazi Germany and the Second World War. I did focused study on the time period in college. I took courses on post holocaust ethics in seminary. I visited Dachau as a child living in Germany and was profoundly changed by the experience.

Donald Trump is dangerous. His followers are dangerous. They play fast and lose with our code of law- Trump even suggesting he could ‘shoot someone on 5^th Avenue and not lose any votes’. Hyperbole? Perhaps. But completely indicative of an entitled and sociopathic mindset. His minions (more than one, more than two) suggest that Hillary Clinton should be murdered. That does not include the trolls on social media.

In my naïveté I once believed that what happened in Nazi Germany could never happen here. But we are no different than any other nation unless we insist that we live by the code of law and cherish our constitution rights (even expanding them as we gain deeper understandings). This is what made our nation- not necessarily our ability to fulfill the vision set out in our constitution, but that we consistently return to the values of freedom and justice. Our military takes an oath to defend the constitution, not the president. Our president takes an oath to defend the constitution. The constitution is a great big deal. Donald Trump and the tea party seem to have forgotten that.

People are afraid. We are afraid of terrorism. We are afraid of one another. We blame others rather than take responsibility for the trauma our nation is experiencing. Fear does horrible things. It drives us to dehumanize others- other races, other religions, other world views. It isolates us from one another. When we live in fear it is almost impossible to trust one another and we need that trust as part of our social contract. Of course there are people who are untrustworthy and there are scary people out there but we must not allow our fear co-opt our commitment to freedom and justice.

Before World War II broke out, Neville Chamberlin, then Prime Minister of Britain, pursued a policy of appeasement with Hitler, giving in to his takeover of Austria and later, Czechoslovakia. Chamberlin believed Hitler had been reigned in. Hitler’s hunger for power was fed rather than appeased.

Why am I bringing up poor Neville Chamberlin? Because DONALD TRUMP and his followers must be stopped. They have already tasted too much power. And they gained their power by tapping into the worst part of ourselves: the parts that fear and hate. If fear of the other manifests in deleting the constitutional rights of our citizens, if hate takes root in our political landscape, the momentum will be almost impossible to stop.

Donald Trump and the tea party are dangerous. What happened in Nazi Germany can happen here. Don’t believe it can’t. Take a stand. Vote as if all our lives depend on it. They do.

Making a Way

July 14, 2016A Gracious Heresy, Christian feminist (radical and otherwise- or is it all radical?), everyday theology, musings, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

So I’ve been wondering: is listening truly the radical act I think it is?

I ask this because I hesitate to make absolute statements (even though some of you might challenge that if you follow me on Facebook). But here’s the thing- I post things that I ponder about or worry on or that confront my concerns, anxieties or things I dearly love or that move me or make me laugh. I post things that are beautiful. Relative to the amount I post, I write or comment very little.

Mostly I listen to reactions. When I feel moved to speak on a contentious topic I try to remain both authentic and vulnerable. And willing to change. Because, as my dear friend reminds me, true listening requires a willingness to change.

I am inviting people to listen with the ability to change, to empathize, to be challenged as a radical act of peacemaking and bridge building.

I get it how difficult it is to be vulnerable, real, authentic about one’s deepest self in the face of bigotry, hatred, and mostly fear.

I extend this invitation only to those who have the support and strength and willingness or ‘call’ to be that open. As a woman, lesbian, Christian, feminist and white, I am in no way suggesting this is the correct or only path for anyone. It is not the only way. It is one way and it is an important way but we also need people who resist. We need people to call out bigotry and hatred and injustice. We need people to stand for justice.

It is not an either/or proposition. The call to radical listening is a part of the larger picture. It is an invitation to mutuality and community. It is another kind of justice seeking. It is making a path through the wilderness.

An Invitation to Radical Bridge Buidling

July 7, 2016A Gracious Heresy, Christian feminist (radical and otherwise- or is it all radical?), everyday theology, musings, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

I am a radical bridge builder and I want you to be one, too.

Somewhere in my upbringing with the experience of many cultures, many races and many people, I came to the absolute conviction that human beings are more alike than different. It is really difficult for me to go to a place of ‘us’ and ‘them’ – though that thinking permeates our cultural and political landscape.

It is hard to be a bridge builder. As difficult as it is to be a vocal activist. Both require putting one’s self on the line. Both are the important work of change and justice.

Bridge building asks of us a different kind of courage. If your call is to put your body on the line as an activist, then do it. And, oh yeah, they aren’t mutually exclusive. Both types of work needs to be done.

What is the courage required to build bridges? First, is the courage of vulnerability. You have to be open about yourself to people who dislike, hate, or fear you. You have to be willing to expose parts of yourself that are real, and sometimes the parts of you that are tender, as an invitation to mutuality.

Then you must have the courage to listen. You have to listen to things that are repugnant, hateful, fearful and, often, ignorant. You have to listen without the immediate agenda of being heard. And you have to listen with a heart of compassion as well as with emotional intelligence. Believe it or not, this is change making. This is the slow process of mutual humanization that opens the door for new understandings and new relationship.

Here’s the thing: there will be many times when you speak and will not be heard. Helping someone to hear is an important task of bridge building. It requires patience and gentleness because when people can’t hear it is because they are afraid. It may present as anger, aggression, or hate but behind those leading feelings is profound fear. And when people are afraid the most radical thing we can do, the most loving thing we can do, is walk with them through their valley of shadows.

So… I invite you to join me and be a bridge builder, too. Know that it is difficult work that requires vulnerability with those who are hostile toward you, compassion for those who hate, and the strength to listen to those who disagree with you.

We who work for justice crave radical change. We work to change laws and systems because injustice saturates our culture. We must march. We must VOTE. We must speak and not be silenced. We must challenge ourselves to root out our own internalized racism, homophobia, sexism, ageism, ableism and classism.

And we must do the hard work of building bridges. Because who we are when we get to the other side is important.