Little Theologians

One of my professors used to always say, "We are all little theologians." In honor of that idea, here's something to get you flexing your little-theology muscles.

Below you will find two seperate theological excercises to whet your God-minded whistle. Let me encourage you to make an attempt at filling out one or both during a few minutes of spare time. Simply, copy and paste in a Word document and have at it. Don't think too long or hard for the right answer, for in doing so you'll miss the point of the activity.

Enjoy.


God is....
God is like the color of _____(color), filling the _____(place) with _____ and _____. When I think of God, I think of _____(flower) and the fragrance and beauty that it brings. I recognized God's presence most often when _____. This is when I know that God is real. God must be bigger than _____ because _____. When I pray, I experience God as _____. Often God whispers to me _____ and at times yells to me _____. The name I most use for God is _____ because _____. I wish God could be more like _____ because then God would _____. The most difficult characteristic for me to understand about God is God's _____. God's favorite game is _____. I know this because God enjoys _____. The place where I saw God today is _____. In this place God was _____. Amen.


====================

God is __________
God is __________
God is __________
God is __________
God sounds like ____________
God sounds like ____________
God sounds like ____________
God sounds like ____________
God's fragrance is like ____________
God's fragrance is like ____________
God's fragrance is like ____________
God's fragrance is like ____________
God feels like ___________
God feels like ___________
God feels like ___________
God feels like ___________
God is __________

I would also encourage you to post what you come up with in the comments section. I would so much love to read what you write.

Blessings.

It's All About Testosterone

This post is part-two of a post titled "God Doesn't Make Mistakes." If you haven't yet read it, click here.

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A baby in the NICU was recently born with female genetalia but also a "Y" chromosome, which indicates male gender. After an enthralling discussion with one of the NICU doctors, Doc W, I learned that for babies to develop as males it's all about testosterone. This baby's delima is that while he is genetically a male, he isn't developing as one.

There are basically three possible causes to a situation such as this:

1. The baby is failing to produce testosterone or enough of it. This is the easiest to treat.

2. The baby does not produce a certain other chemical which actually converts testosterone into a usable form.

3. The baby's receptors, which take in and use the testosterone, are not doing there job. I.E. He can't take in testosterone.

In the case of the third cause, there is little or nothing that modern medicine can do in order to help the baby develop as male (it's genotype). Luckily Dr. W says it looks like this baby's cause is the first: he's just not producing the hormone.

Once the tests confirm this, they can start giving the baby testosterone. At that point it sounded like he will develop a penis and the feminine genetalia will dissapate. Upon puberty, he will be as normal as the next. Whew, I'm glad to hear that this child will have a chance at a "normal" life.

Dr. W also said that today in parts of India the legal documents have three options for denoting gender: male, female and trans. Medicine is not as far advanced or nearly as accessible, so there's an entire sub-culture of people born with ambigious gender who simply develop naturally.

The Native American Indians had a word for trans-gendered individuals: "two spirits." They were neither hunters nor gatherers. They indeed had two spirits. And they were often revered as shaman. (Thnx Vicki for this last part!)

I'm also glad we now have medical advancements to figure out such things. In the old days (1950's) the belief was that in the battle between Nature vs Nurture, the latter always wins. In cases such as this one 50 years ago, doctors would have instructed parents to raise the boy as a girl and all would be well. Luckily, we've learned better than this, sadly due partly to the number of distressed individuals who've committed suicide or changed their gender later in life because of being raised contradictory to their biology.

Truly, the brain is our most powerful sexual organ.

See Section

Two weeks ago I was priviledged to watch a Cesarean Section birth. And it was marvalously fascinating.

This residency year has been so much more than I could've expected in many ways, and part of that is because I've been able to observe an autopsy, a circumcision, 3 surgeries, and now a C-section.

Here's how it all went down (or should I say came out).

First of all, L&D (Labor and Delivery) is 99% female in their staff (and patients). So, as soon as I arrived that morning at 7:30 I was out of place and recieved more than a few curious looks from passers by as I stood gowned in the full body "bunny suit" like painters wear. I also had on a surgical hat thingy, shoe coverings and mask which alerted me to the fact that my breath was not too pleasant. (*Note, have a mint before visiting patients).

As I entered, mom was having the epidural: a series of large and long needles injected into her spine. This was the worst part of it all. She didn't react at all; however, I winced every time a needle was inserted. I confess there was a moment when I wondered if I'd see my breakfast again.

When the doc entered he got straight to business, cutting the skin open carefully and then pealing and cutting back the other layers of flesh and fatty tissue. All the sudden, there was the uterus, or the little baby hotel as it was explained to me in my early years. Smooth and slimy it looked near the size of a basketball.

One quick motion and it was cut open. Quickly, a river of watery amniotic fluid rushed out as if the dam just broke. Seconds later the doctor was pulling on something suctioned to the baby's head, and poof, there was a whole new person in the room.

By this point, only about 10 minutes had gone by. Mom wanted her tubes tied (which the doc said was "bad for business"), so after sewing up the uterus the doctor pulled the whole thing out and set it on her stomach. She was literally inside out! The tube tying went quickly and is exactly what it sounds like. He tied two pieces of string tight around each filopian tube and cut out the section in between. That was it.

Fifteen minutes of sewing her up and all was done. The whole thing lasted about 45 minutes start to finish. Mom and dad were elated. Mom cried and dad, with camera ready, was taking pictures of the first purple, then pink little life that had entered our world. The best part was watching these parents enjoy the sight of their new dear little beloved.


It was amazing. Getting to see a C-section forced me to sit and simply be astounded by the miracle of life, and how all of the millions of little things that need to grow and develop in just the right way all happened perfectly to produce this bundle of joy.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. -Psalm 139:14

The Heart of Christianity, By Marcus Borg

I just finished reading The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering A Life Of Faith, by professor and scholar Marcus Borg.

Borg, Hundere Distinguished Professor of Religion at Oregon State University, is one of the most widely known and influential voices for progressive Christianity out there today. Prior to this book he has written over a dozen books including the best seller, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time.

In a way, The Heart of Christianity seems to be a synthesis of much of Borg's writings as well as answers to frequently asked questions in his seminars.

Borg sets out in this book to address the growing divide between conservative and liberal Christianity, which he refers to as the Earlier Paradigm and the Emerging Paradigm. At the heart of this book is the question of how we understand the Bible. Here, Borg says plainly, "I think the single most divisive issue in American-Christianity today concerns the nature of the Bible." And I think Dr. Borg is on to something.

In a growing number of "little theological discussions" I'm having with family and friends, I often find my thoughts tracing the core issue for the topic at hand back to how we view the Bible. Is the Bible inerrent (without error, infallible)? Or is it something else? Is it the product of men and women doing there best to make sense of and write down what they interpreted as experiences with the sacred. Is the Bible "God's Handbook" as I've often heard it described? Did the Biblical authors simply take divine dictation, writing down exactly what God told them too. I doubt it. Something tells me the process was much messier than that.

When I entered seminary I was exposed to "the inerrancy debate." Is frightening how aggressively people can argue over this issue. I quickly became fed up with it and thought, "Why can't we just ignore this small issue and get on with following Jesus?" And while this isn't a bad approach, I am becoming more aware that how we understand the Bible affects virtually every aspect of Christian belief.

But, back to the book review stuff...

Because, most are familiar with the conservative or earlier paradigm, Borg writes on behalf of the emerging paradigm, tactfully presenting the Christian lens through which progressive believers see their faith system. The book is divided into two sections, 1) a more doctrinal but very readable section where he presents his view of faith, God, the Bible and Jesus; and 2) several chapters on how this paradigm is lived out on topics such as salvation, Christian practice, and religious pluralism.

To any Christian raised in the conservative stream of the tradition, one thing will be true: this book is challenging. It's not challenging to read or to understand, but rather Borg will likely confront you with ideas that threaten to rattle some foundational elements of your faith. In my opinion, more people need such experiences that stretch their faith. One sad aspect of conservative Christianity is that too few people have spent time thinking for themselves about their faith, and too many people will put down such a book once it becomes a theological threat.

The writing is very smooth, and Borg is decidedly articulate, leaving no vagaries or questions as to what he actually means. Though the book covers a wide array on the theological spectrum, it is not exhaustive, so there is still room for discussion on most of the issues.

As a life-long student of theology and a bit of a theologian myself, I give this book the ever-coveted "Nathan-two-thumbs-up" and recommend it to anyone ready to think for herself about God and faith and life.

Carrey Me

At my 6th grade "graduation" ceremony thing awards and superlatives were given out. There was a group of goofy type awards during which I was given "The Jim Carrey" award. My teacher said, "Nathan walked into my class room with a different facial expression on every single day."

Ever since then, about 2 or 3 times a year I have been, and still get, told that I look like or remind someone of Jim Carrey.

I, personally, can't say that I look much like him. However, I have heard dozens of times throughout life that I resemble or am reminiscent of the wacky and flamboyant actor. I am a fan of much of his acting and many of his movies including, The Truman Show, The Mask, Liar Liar (OMG! Somebody just now, I mean right now, just told me that I reminded her of Jim Carrey. I'm not even kidding.), Ace Ventura, Bruce Almighty, and of course ol' Fire Marshall Bill from SNL.

Since I was small I've always enjoyed taking wacky pictures or contorting my face in new ways. I have energy and have been known to spaz in ways reminiscent of Mr. Carrey's TV/movie personality. That I cannot deny.

I am funny (and I know how lame it sounds when someone says, "I'm funny."), so perhaps it is the laughter along with my hieght and lankiness that forms the connection in people's minds. But there are plenty of tall funny people.

So, what is it? What about me causes the occasional person to make this comparison. If this thought has ever entered your mind, please be a doll and enter it on the comments section. I don't need your defense of why I don't remind you of him, but any insights into why this comparison is broched every few months would be helpful.

See, don't Heather and I look just like Jim and Jenny?...I didn't think so either.

Getting Older

I came across this poem, by Billy Collins, in something I read recently. It's an poetic telling of what it's like to finally turn 10, to move from the innocence of our childhood to adolescence. It's also sad as it points out (I think) the death of part of our imagination.


The whold idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chickenpox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I would shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.


I especially love the images of wizards and princes that we can all probably identify with. Something happened to our imagination along the way. For some reason we're no longer able to suspend reality for adverture's sake save when we're watching a movie or reading a novel. What a disservice to our inner child, to our primal, playful imagination, to those formative parts of us that continually impact who we are today.

Perhaps, today, when you're driving home in your car you can take those minutes to imagine you're racing down a track for your life in a battle against your arch nemesis! Or maybe you'll be embarking on a quest (people don't go on enough quests anymore) to save the one you love from mortal danger and great peril! Maybe you can let your mind engage in a bit of play for a few minutes.

Give it a try, I'd love to hear about it on the comments section. Go have some fun.

Bizarre

Bizarre is the only word I have to describe some of the medical situations I've encountered in the hospital. Here's a few of the highlights.

After lung cancer and more than one surgery, a man breathes using only 15% of the one lung he has remaining. Wow.

Patients with major head injuries often have to have monitors surgically put into their heads. A hole is drilled into the skull where the sensor sits and monitors pressure on the brain. Crazy. (Can I get one of those for emotional pressure?)

Amputee patients sometimes feel pain in the areas of their bodies that have been removed. I know this is due to the nervous system and that sort of thing, but how bizarre would it be to feel pain in your foot when you don't have a leg? Yikes.

A man fell and hit his head hard on concrete. Nothing was broken; however, the injury created lots of swelling and pressure build up in his skull. Doctors then cut out and removed a piece of his skull to relieve pressure and stored it in his stomach for safe keeping until it can be replaced. What?!

A man slowly drifted from life into death one night. His organs were not functioning, his lungs were not breathing. He was dead. But his pacemaker was still going so the monitor showed a heart beat. The only way to stop it was to run a magnet over his chest and kill the pacemaker. Sad.

Falling from a tree a man crushed a lumbar disc in his spine. In surgery the doctor first removed one of his lower floating ribs. "Look chaplain, I have his rib," he said as the doctor held the bone in the air. This rib would later be fashioned to replace the broken neck bone. Intriguing.

Like I said, bizarre is the only word I can come up with to describe this stuff that happens in the hospital. I'm reminded of Psalm 139:14 which reads, "I'm praise you (God) because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."