I've been in hibernation lately, I know. I do spend more time than I should online, but as I've mentioned before, I'm trying to limit myself to the sort of fleeting thoughts that lend themselves to Facebook status updates, and channel the complex meditative asides into something that might pass as academically productive. We'll see how that works out.
[For fear of Google, I have comment moderation on]
Recently, however, we encountered some issues with my son (now 12) that necessitated the opening of a pretty weighty subject--how to address topics related to sexuality in an informative, sex-positive, yet Catholic Christian context. And, well, I want him to have a book or books to turn to when curiosity arises and he doesn't necessarily feel like getting a parental lecture--because too often, I think, we give too much information and bore the heck out of him, truthfully. . . So while we are open to questions, and correct misperceptions or misbehavior, explain when necessary, I think a good book is a good thing to have. But where to go? He's younger than the target age for the Theology of the Body for Teens resources, and most of the Catholic resources that I've seen for younger ages address the spiritual aspects of where babies come from, and feelings of love, etc. Basically, I wasn't finding much actual information about anatomy, biological functions, adolescence--you know, the basics! Perhaps I wasn't looking in the right places, but I'm pretty good at looking, and I wasn't finding. So I looked at the mainstream/secular resources, which of course, went in the opposite direction.
I believe that even if I *wanted* to affirm, promote, and emphasize use of birth control, as I would have at one point but do not now, I would still think that 12 is too young. He knows that birth control exists. Last year, he asked me whether there was a kind of medicine that a woman could take to prevent her from having a baby. I said yes, there was, and explained the Church's position on contraception in basic terms. At this stage, I don't want a book that details the various methods of contraception, though I am not--by any means--opposed to his learning about them. I will, of course, let him know our beliefs and the reason for those beliefs when the subject arises. He will make his decisions based on the information and moral guidance that we give to him, without the information being omitted.
The non-religious reference books on sexuality for youth that I found biologically informative and generally well-written also introduced and affirmed every type of sexual practice and lifestyle choice without any reference to the fact that not all lifestyle choices are condoned by all religions or *gasp!* parents. The books made it clear that these are exclusively personal matters and constructed implied child reader as independent from the beliefs and wishes of his/her parents. Basically, they provided an initiation into the happy utopia of adult sexuality. Ugh! You have no responsibility to anyone but yourself, so use protection and follow your impulses. Ugh! There was some stuff for girls about not being taken advantage of, some advice to empower girls to say no, but the overall message was that yes was good, too. Hence, the religious objection to sex ed: it not only provides information, it presents a certain world view and attitude toward sexuality that is largely self-serving and does not acknowledge that there may be other contexts for understanding human sexuality. This was not my experience of sex education, and I believe that this is because the average teacher of biology is not necessarily comfortable with promoting sexual practices to pre-teens or teens. There are, of course, exceptions, as the famous "condom-on-a-banana" anecdotes demonstrate. "Health" teachers might be a little more suspect. . .
So I admit that I do want to avoid the "You Might Be Gay--and It's Okay!" chapters. First, because however early homosexual feelings do appear, to confront and affirm them too early may lead to reckless lifestyle choices that are not informed by the wisdom and maturity of age. I would have scoffed to hear myself say such things when I was 17 (and a sophomore in college), but I can look back and see how my attitudes toward sexuality, which I developed largely on my own, matured over many years. Second, I want the Catholic version, that says, "You might be gay, and it's okay, because that's how God made you; but understand that the Church teaches that homosexual acts are inherently sinful, and you are called as a Catholic Christian to live according to this teaching. It may be that this is your cross to bear, and that you are called to a celibate life, and a life of service to others. This may be your special calling." I know it's unpopular. I have friends who are openly gay and live homosexual lifestyles, and they are dear friends, and I love them, but I have to acknowledge the teaching of my faith--which they do not share--in the instruction of my children, and my faith says that ALL lustful inclinations, ALL intercourse outside of the sanctity of marriage, and even some intercourse within the sanctity of marriage, is sinful. Men who aren't married, women who aren't married, homosexual and heterosexual--all are called to celibacy. Meanwhile, ALL people are called to chastity. It's a hard thing, so please don't blame me for it. I understand it and accept it, and will teach it to my children, as I am called to do.
Point is, of course, you're not going to find a book that says any of this. And with the Christian books, it's difficult to find a book that presents Christian teaching on alternative lifestyles sympathetically. Because taking something as a matter of faith, accepting and promoting an unpopular, politically incorrect teaching about sexuality, does not mean that you have to bulldoze through it and dismiss the feelings of those most intimately affected by the teaching. It does not mean that at all. So the book that had a table of contents arranged by "Thou Shall Nots"?--Uh uh. Not for me.
But, I did find some good books--two, to be exact. I apologize for making you read to the end of this to discover what they were. First, there was the "icebreaker"--the funny book, and to date, the only one of the two that my son has read (that he's admitted, anyway). It is called Lintball Leo's Not-so-Stupid Questions about Your Body. Published by ZonderKids, it is specifically geared towards boys, but there is one for girls, which I found first, and thought, "I wish there was one like this for boys!" and then looked on the next shelf. It provides information, does not insult the intelligence, does not preach, but does couch the physical, biological, and social questions that accompany puberty in a context that acknowledges nondenominational belief in God. Any divergences from Catholic teaching are very, very small--for example, it doesn't necessarily say that masturbation is a sin, but it does say that masturbation could become a part of sinful behavior or behavior patterns. The parent's objection to this statement could vary one way or another.
The second book I found had more information about sex--it read more like the mainstream sex ed books for teens/pre-teens in terms of what topics it covered, albeit from a Christian perspective. Again, I did not find the Christianity too prohibitive (that is, prohibitive in terms of "thou shall nots"), but do consider that I was looking for a minimally didactic book explaining sexuality within a Christian context. The book is titled, Sex and the New You, and is part of the Learning About Sex series published by Concordia Publishing House that is intended for children in various stages of curiosity about their bodies. The particular title I purchased is "For Young Men ages 13-15"--again, gender specific. There is a girls' version, and the difference is in the anatomical and social emphases. Each gender's version has a chapter relating to the anatomical features of and changes being experienced by the other, so the chapter "About Girls and Women" discussed female anatomy including menstruation--and has a drawing of a naked lady, to boot! And the glossary includes "clitoris"! ;) Emphasis is on respecting the bodies of others as well as yourself. I picked the age 13-15 volume because the younger volume was mostly centered on reproduction, and that was not the issue at hand. We were ready for a more mature set of subjects. But there is even a volume for ages 4-6, in picture book format, though I only noted it with passing interest. They are marketed as part of a home school or Christian school curriculum, or for individual use. The use of Bible verses was more extensive, but very tastefully done. I was less impressed with the title that was one "stage" down (all about reproduction), but each book has a different author, and it may well have been because it was not what I was looking for at the time. Still, I debated before choosing one over the other. Very occasionally, I disagree with generalizations about gender roles, but in general this is handled very well. The chapter on differences between men and women emphasizes that physical differences do not dictate differences in ability.
So that was a learning experience for me a couple of weeks ago, and hopefully yielded some information that will be helpful to others--and maybe I also provided some insight into what concerns Christian parents have about teaching sex ed to their kids. ;)
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Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Words: "Conversion"
Well, it's happened. Someone has made me think! ;) Blogging around this afternoon--something I have neglected this week--I discovered this post by Entropy on the subject of being a "Cradle Catholic" vs. a Convert. Now, this is a topic that is near and dear to my heart, so I couldn't help adding my $0.02. I think it becomes a particularly relevant question to Catholic converts, or should, whether converting is "better," somehow, than being raised in the Faith, since practicing Catholicism involves choosing Catholicism for one's children, which is not something that can be said of most Christian churches, and which is in contrast to the experience of some (many?) coverts to Catholicism. In particular, the churches I was exposed to as a child required a personal conversion experience, and in fact, many tried ("revival"-style) to induce a conversion experience (in the manner of Langston Hughes' "Salvation," which has always been a favorite short story of mine). So I was "touched by Jesus" several times when visiting weird youth-groups with friends, only to realize when I returned home that what I mistook for "repentance" was actually guilt for some minor or imagined teenage transgression, and that I had been duped into feeling something that was not, in fact, genuine. Over the years, one of my issues with the churches I had attended (the more mainstream ones, that is) was this emphasis on the Ultimate Conversion Experience--that is, the moment of Being Saved. It struck me as being so intangible as to be unreliable, first of all (child of reason that I was), and second, so wrapped up in emotion as to be, to my mind, distasteful. (I've said before that I've had to gradually "grow into" spirituality, in part because I had been warm & fuzzied to death over the years. . .) I wondered how one recognized the One Moment, what happened if one lapsed (this from observing the "Saved" around me, or the hairdresser who declared her son to be "Saved" anew every time he came back home needing money), and any number of other things. I believe I understand things a bit better now, but suffice it to say that I was skeptical, and rejected the whole concept out of hand. I came to wonder if not everyone was capable of the Ultimate Conversion Experience, so when I was looking for a conversion experience, I looked to reason rather than the lightening bolts I was told to expect. (Is it any wonder I liked the Hughes story?)
Now, this is not to say that my conversion experience, when it came, was not recognizable as something unique and momentous, and suffused with emotion, but that's not where I'm going with this. Rather, I want to think about the difference in the way "conversion" is represented within Catholicism. Certainly, "conversion" is the act of becoming Catholic--or Christian, if one is not Catholic. It involves Baptism if one is not Baptized already, and in Catholicism, it involves the acts of receiving the other Sacraments of Initiation--First Communion, First Reconciliation (if one is already Baptized) and Confirmation. But I was surprised to find, within Catholicism, a discourse of conversion that went beyond initiation into the membership of the Faith--something beyond that first acceptance--of the individual by the Church and of the Church by the individual. During Lent in particular, there was a discourse of "turning away," of "converting"--turning one's mind and actions away from sin and toward God. Those Catholics who had turned away from the Church, but returned were described as having "conversion experiences" (though they were not called "converts"), and even those who had never left the Church were sometimes referred to as having a conversion of mind, heart, spirit, etc., sometimes to a new acceptance or a closer understanding of Church doctrine. In addition, the Eucharist is a means toward our continual conversion. I found comfort in this expanded definition of "conversion" which placed emphasis on a continual affirmation of faith rather than a one-time faith event that was supposed to sustain the love of God and the will to remain relatively sinless. It placed more responsibility on the individual and acknowledged the individual's weakness simultaneously. It also somewhat modified my understanding of what "conversion" means.
Thinking about Entropy's post, then, my initial response addressed the question of what I gained from being a convert, and what I thought my children stood to gain from being raised Catholic rather than being allowed to convert later, in the manner of many Protestant denominations, which teach that Baptism should follow the individual conversion experience rather than being chosen by the parents. I did value my choice, but this was from the perspective of rejecting organized religion (int he form of all Christian churches). However, I do think that even had I been raised Catholic (as I "should" have been, given that my parents were Catholic and were married in the Catholic Church), I would have rebelled at some point. But perhaps I would have had a better vantage point for converting, that is, for turning back. I still would have had the ability to "claim" my faith, and perhaps (ideally) I would have had a better idea of what I stood to gain or lose. Who knows? But this is my point: that what we really mean by "converting" when we talk about the Ultimate Conversion Experience (or even Being Saved) is the act of Claiming one's faith. And though Catholics are Baptized at birth, all Catholics have various opportunities to claim our Faith. Inevitably, it is (or should be) an act of will to convert--to claim one's faith; however, everyone should at some point exercise their own will in choosing their faith, even to choose the faith that they were given from birth by their parents.
Now, this is not to say that my conversion experience, when it came, was not recognizable as something unique and momentous, and suffused with emotion, but that's not where I'm going with this. Rather, I want to think about the difference in the way "conversion" is represented within Catholicism. Certainly, "conversion" is the act of becoming Catholic--or Christian, if one is not Catholic. It involves Baptism if one is not Baptized already, and in Catholicism, it involves the acts of receiving the other Sacraments of Initiation--First Communion, First Reconciliation (if one is already Baptized) and Confirmation. But I was surprised to find, within Catholicism, a discourse of conversion that went beyond initiation into the membership of the Faith--something beyond that first acceptance--of the individual by the Church and of the Church by the individual. During Lent in particular, there was a discourse of "turning away," of "converting"--turning one's mind and actions away from sin and toward God. Those Catholics who had turned away from the Church, but returned were described as having "conversion experiences" (though they were not called "converts"), and even those who had never left the Church were sometimes referred to as having a conversion of mind, heart, spirit, etc., sometimes to a new acceptance or a closer understanding of Church doctrine. In addition, the Eucharist is a means toward our continual conversion. I found comfort in this expanded definition of "conversion" which placed emphasis on a continual affirmation of faith rather than a one-time faith event that was supposed to sustain the love of God and the will to remain relatively sinless. It placed more responsibility on the individual and acknowledged the individual's weakness simultaneously. It also somewhat modified my understanding of what "conversion" means.
Thinking about Entropy's post, then, my initial response addressed the question of what I gained from being a convert, and what I thought my children stood to gain from being raised Catholic rather than being allowed to convert later, in the manner of many Protestant denominations, which teach that Baptism should follow the individual conversion experience rather than being chosen by the parents. I did value my choice, but this was from the perspective of rejecting organized religion (int he form of all Christian churches). However, I do think that even had I been raised Catholic (as I "should" have been, given that my parents were Catholic and were married in the Catholic Church), I would have rebelled at some point. But perhaps I would have had a better vantage point for converting, that is, for turning back. I still would have had the ability to "claim" my faith, and perhaps (ideally) I would have had a better idea of what I stood to gain or lose. Who knows? But this is my point: that what we really mean by "converting" when we talk about the Ultimate Conversion Experience (or even Being Saved) is the act of Claiming one's faith. And though Catholics are Baptized at birth, all Catholics have various opportunities to claim our Faith. Inevitably, it is (or should be) an act of will to convert--to claim one's faith; however, everyone should at some point exercise their own will in choosing their faith, even to choose the faith that they were given from birth by their parents.
Labels:
Catholicism,
Christianity,
conversion,
Eucharist,
faith,
personal experience,
religion,
salvation
Friday, May 25, 2007
Things I'm Thinking About. . .
Not grammar, clearly. No dangling prepositions here, no indeed! Well, I am packing and preparing for class next week, as the move and the first day of classes are both on May 29, so this isn't really a real post, it's just my way of getting down the things that have been floating around my head as I pack, especially since I have still been glancing at blogs, and even commenting on some, but not writing my own, which means the thoughts are accumulating and have to spill out at some point or another. So to save my husband my 1 A.M. insights into life and the universe, here's a little run-down!
1) The practical stuff: I am actually wondering if getting the UHaul on the 29th was smart. I probably should have reserved it for the 28th, provided they're open on that day, loaded it on Memorial Day and unloaded it on the 29th--the official move-in day. Hmmm. . . This is one of those thoughts that might require further action on my part. . .
2) I'm thinking about gender, though not in the way mentioned here. Actually, I am rather thinking about how my own perceptions of gender relate to the academic writings on the subject (represented very well by M's post, linked above) and the religious discussions on the subject that I have seen in various places, many of which I find disturbing in their characterizations of men's and women's roles. I fall somewhere in between. I can play "gender theory" with the best of them--you should see my paper on “Literacy, Patriarchy and Performance: Pedro Almodóvar on Writers and Writing” (it's a literacy-as-gender-performativity-thing)--but how I view things in the real world diverges somewhat from what I produce for conferences and courses. ADDENDUM: How I view things in the real world diverges somewhat from what I produce for conferences and courses where the subject of gender is concerned!
3) I'm thinking about how pregnancy hormones affect the mind. I've read in books that around this or that month of pregnancy, one can become "forgetful," "absent-minded," etc., but I've never seen anything about paranoia. Granted, I can be rather a worry-wort normally anyway, but seeing as how hormones are powerful creatures, it doesn't seem unlikely that they might be affecting my obsessive worrying about whether the baby is O.K., etc. In the middle of an obsessive moment the other night, it occurred to me how spoiled I am (we are?) by medical technology. It's one of the reasons I haven't wanted, in past pregnancies, to find out the sex of my baby. That and resisting the whole "must-buy-gender-appropriate-stuff" urge--I really resent the marketing push that reinforces the need for people to find out if they're having a boy or a girl, but I digress. . . Basically, I realize that my grandmother didn't have any special assurance that her 7 children were healthy and "normal." The doctors didn't even believe her when she said that she was having twins! (They had hiccups at the same time--out of sync!) My mother had to have an x-ray before delivering me at home to make sure my head would fit through her pelvis--the fit was exact. And that little doppler thing that they use to listen to the baby's heart now--how many women never heard their babies' heartbeats in utero? They just trusted that the heartbeat was there! (And somehow did not doubt that what was inside them was, indeed, a baby.)
4) I am thinking how nice it will be, for the first time, to teach a course that I have already taught--in the way I taught it previously. I have this bad habit of revamping each course I teach each time I teach it--thereby making more work for myself. But when I was pregnant for my daughter 2 summers ago, I taught Intro to Lit with a focus on fantasy as manifested in various literary genres. While I will rearrange the sequence somewhat and pare down the assignments some, I have left the syllabus mostly the same. Yay!
5) On the dissertation front, I am thinking about D. H. Lawrence's anxieties about gender and literacy--basically, if you were a scholar, could you also be a man? He seems to think not. In Lawrence, manly men are ignorant, country men, like his own father whom he hated. He left that background to become a writer. Evidently, he felt that he had sacrificed a vital part of his nature in doing so. I like Lawrence for this reason--in the midst of his machismo, he's so conflicted! Actually, I like Forster because he's conflicted, too, it's just different. . .
6) Another dissertation-related thought is what constitutes "literate activity." It's a central idea for me, which probably means I should keep it well-guarded and certainly not blog about it. Oh well! You see, though, different theorists and historians mean different things when they talk about "literacy." Some talk about the ability to read, while some focus more on writing. Some merely concern themselves with the presence of writing within a culture, whether or not anyone actually has access to the written materials. Some measure the ability to read by the ability to, say, sign one's name--this has been a traditional marker of literacy for historians, though we should be able to perceive some problems there. Then, there's "functional" vs. "advanced" literacy. I admit to bypassing a number of these questions, as "advanced" literacy is more my concern--I know, how elitist of me. But I'm focusing on fiction, after all. There is a certain assumption of literacy on the part of the author, who assumes that someone, somewhere will be reading this work, and writes according to his or her perception of the level of literacy of that reader. Which makes postmodern fiction either completely elitist, or an admission of despair. (I'm teaching Calvino's Invisible Cities this summer. Yum!) So I use the term "literate activity," which means that any time the author portrays someone reading or writing, I'm there. But I also contend that literate conversation--that is, verbal interaction between people that is informed by literacy (especially advanced literacy)--is also literate activity. If you haven't read the same books, you can't exactly talk about them now, can you?
7) And, then, Entropy has me thinking about the Holy Spirit & prayer and the role of the Gentiles in the development of Christianity, and I thank her for not letting me forget that Pentecost is approaching!
1) The practical stuff: I am actually wondering if getting the UHaul on the 29th was smart. I probably should have reserved it for the 28th, provided they're open on that day, loaded it on Memorial Day and unloaded it on the 29th--the official move-in day. Hmmm. . . This is one of those thoughts that might require further action on my part. . .
2) I'm thinking about gender, though not in the way mentioned here. Actually, I am rather thinking about how my own perceptions of gender relate to the academic writings on the subject (represented very well by M's post, linked above) and the religious discussions on the subject that I have seen in various places, many of which I find disturbing in their characterizations of men's and women's roles. I fall somewhere in between. I can play "gender theory" with the best of them--you should see my paper on “Literacy, Patriarchy and Performance: Pedro Almodóvar on Writers and Writing” (it's a literacy-as-gender-performativity-thing)--but how I view things in the real world diverges somewhat from what I produce for conferences and courses. ADDENDUM: How I view things in the real world diverges somewhat from what I produce for conferences and courses where the subject of gender is concerned!
3) I'm thinking about how pregnancy hormones affect the mind. I've read in books that around this or that month of pregnancy, one can become "forgetful," "absent-minded," etc., but I've never seen anything about paranoia. Granted, I can be rather a worry-wort normally anyway, but seeing as how hormones are powerful creatures, it doesn't seem unlikely that they might be affecting my obsessive worrying about whether the baby is O.K., etc. In the middle of an obsessive moment the other night, it occurred to me how spoiled I am (we are?) by medical technology. It's one of the reasons I haven't wanted, in past pregnancies, to find out the sex of my baby. That and resisting the whole "must-buy-gender-appropriate-stuff" urge--I really resent the marketing push that reinforces the need for people to find out if they're having a boy or a girl, but I digress. . . Basically, I realize that my grandmother didn't have any special assurance that her 7 children were healthy and "normal." The doctors didn't even believe her when she said that she was having twins! (They had hiccups at the same time--out of sync!) My mother had to have an x-ray before delivering me at home to make sure my head would fit through her pelvis--the fit was exact. And that little doppler thing that they use to listen to the baby's heart now--how many women never heard their babies' heartbeats in utero? They just trusted that the heartbeat was there! (And somehow did not doubt that what was inside them was, indeed, a baby.)
4) I am thinking how nice it will be, for the first time, to teach a course that I have already taught--in the way I taught it previously. I have this bad habit of revamping each course I teach each time I teach it--thereby making more work for myself. But when I was pregnant for my daughter 2 summers ago, I taught Intro to Lit with a focus on fantasy as manifested in various literary genres. While I will rearrange the sequence somewhat and pare down the assignments some, I have left the syllabus mostly the same. Yay!
5) On the dissertation front, I am thinking about D. H. Lawrence's anxieties about gender and literacy--basically, if you were a scholar, could you also be a man? He seems to think not. In Lawrence, manly men are ignorant, country men, like his own father whom he hated. He left that background to become a writer. Evidently, he felt that he had sacrificed a vital part of his nature in doing so. I like Lawrence for this reason--in the midst of his machismo, he's so conflicted! Actually, I like Forster because he's conflicted, too, it's just different. . .
6) Another dissertation-related thought is what constitutes "literate activity." It's a central idea for me, which probably means I should keep it well-guarded and certainly not blog about it. Oh well! You see, though, different theorists and historians mean different things when they talk about "literacy." Some talk about the ability to read, while some focus more on writing. Some merely concern themselves with the presence of writing within a culture, whether or not anyone actually has access to the written materials. Some measure the ability to read by the ability to, say, sign one's name--this has been a traditional marker of literacy for historians, though we should be able to perceive some problems there. Then, there's "functional" vs. "advanced" literacy. I admit to bypassing a number of these questions, as "advanced" literacy is more my concern--I know, how elitist of me. But I'm focusing on fiction, after all. There is a certain assumption of literacy on the part of the author, who assumes that someone, somewhere will be reading this work, and writes according to his or her perception of the level of literacy of that reader. Which makes postmodern fiction either completely elitist, or an admission of despair. (I'm teaching Calvino's Invisible Cities this summer. Yum!) So I use the term "literate activity," which means that any time the author portrays someone reading or writing, I'm there. But I also contend that literate conversation--that is, verbal interaction between people that is informed by literacy (especially advanced literacy)--is also literate activity. If you haven't read the same books, you can't exactly talk about them now, can you?
7) And, then, Entropy has me thinking about the Holy Spirit & prayer and the role of the Gentiles in the development of Christianity, and I thank her for not letting me forget that Pentecost is approaching!
Labels:
Christianity,
D. H. Lawrence,
dissertation,
gender,
literacy,
moving,
pregnancy,
teaching
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