Sex, lies, and simplistic thinking

“life doesn’t follow the rules and when it doesn’t, we scramble to make sense of it…  “

Unwanted pregnancy resulting from rape is an impossibly complex reality and even more painful than it is complex.  How could something so precious and innocent and wonderful as a new baby come from an act of violence so horrific?  It seems to deny the very laws of nature that we rely on every day:

By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thorn bushes, or figs from thistles? Matthew 7:16

How can rape produce a precious baby?  We may not understand it, but it happens.

Sometimes life doesn’t follow the rules and when it doesn’t, we scramble to make sense of it… sometimes valuing our simplistic solutions over truth so that we become caught in another layer of tragedy by telling lies and blaming victims.

I became really, really angry this week at the careless remarks of Rep. Todd Akin. In case you haven’t heard:

“The controversy erupted after Akin told a television interview Sunday that a woman’s body is capable of preventing pregnancy in cases of “legitimate rape.” He later apologized, explaining he meant to say “forcible rape” and acknowledged that women “do become pregnant” during such instances.”

Such ignorance makes me want to go crying into the streets with Like Lady wisdom:

“How long will you who are simple love your simple ways?
    How long will mockers delight in mockery
    and fools hate knowledge?” Proverbs 1

Rep. Akin’s remarks were ignorant and mistaken and simple minded. They implied that there is something called “legitimate” and thus also “illegitimate” rape.  They suggest that if a woman becomes pregnant, somehow her rape was really not a rape?  On some biological level somehow she consented? Such is the foolishness of the simple minded, the stance of those who cannot hold the pain and complexity of such a tragedy and are looking for a way out.  The easiest and most cowardly resolution of such cognitive dissonance is to blame the victim.

It makes me think of Tamar’s story. If you remember, two of Tamar’s husbands, brothers, had been killed by God (what?) for being evil and so their father, Judah, blamed Tamar. Here’s how I write about it in My Own Worst Enemy

 Blaming the Victim

Judah then said to his daughter-in-law Tamar, “Live as a widow in your father’s household until my son Shelah grows up.” For he thought, “He may die too, just like his brothers.” (Genesis 38:11)

As is true of many women who suffer injustice, the victim ends up being blamed for the sin of another. I spoke with a woman the other day who was being told that her husband’s alcohol addiction was her fault. And another whose husband yelled at her when she caught him secretly studying a Victoria’s Secret catalogue (and not for purposes of ordering her lingerie). He told her she shouldn’t have left it in the kitchen trash where he would be tempted; that it was her responsibility to take it all the way out to the outside garbage. What?!

Women are often all too quick to accept the blame for the wrongdoing of others. Though it seems counterintuitive, we actually prefer to be to blame. Think about it: when we are at fault, we are still in control. We would love to believe that we can whip ourselves into shape and therefore guarantee that this kind of disappointment, pain, and betrayal will never happen again. Sadly, our strategy simply doesn’t work. In fact, our acceptance of blame can sabotage or forestall real repentance and change on the part of another, continuing the cycle of sin or abuse. Sometimes we, like Tamar, are truly victims. That, my friends, is a hard but true truth.

Tragically, Judah did not seem to question the behavior of his evil sons at all; he had decided that the problem was Tamar. On top of such an unjust conclusion, he was also not forthright about his plan to protect his third, only remaining, son. Perhaps he knew his position was indefensible.

 Tamar fought back with some trickery of her own and, interestingly, is one of four women mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus.

The events of this week have left me wishing for a shrewd Tamar to expose the harm of simplistic thinking.

Maybe this time it’s up to us all.  Let your voice be heard before the new stories shift to the next juicy sound bite.

 

 

A ponder-less people

“Wisdom does not come to us in snippets and sound bites but instead in deep rhythms to be revealed and discovered as we ponder and seek. “

I was visiting this week with my mom who has dementia.  It is interesting and sad to notice that her responses to questions are increasingly disconnected from reality. Her brain’s process of sorting and seeking real-time data in response to a question have become so slow that she simply offers an answer, nabbed somewhere from the recesses of her mind.  There is no need for pause.  No tolerance for uncertainty or questioning. No reflection.  Just an answer that feels true to her but sometimes holds little connection with reality or wisdom.  They say we don’t appreciate what we have until we’ve lost it. I am beginning to wonder if, among the many things she has lost in the course of this journey, this loss of her ability to ponder is the most significant.

Unfortunately, she’s not the only one.  The “impatient brain syndrome” (not an official diagnosis) may exist in epidemic proportions. A wise friend of mine wrote this on her blog this week:

…My brain is always twitchy, never at rest, always ready for the next thing.  Likewise, my mind is always cycling through the to-do list, the email inbox, the Facebook updates, the texts and the rest.  Like many people, I check my phone before I get out of bed in the morning and when I go to bed at the end of the day.  I work broadly, getting a lot done, but not deeply, since I am constantly distracted…. Maybe my brain will heal itself.  Maybe it will regain its God-given ability to ponder, to single-task, to plumb the depths and the heights of . . . well, just about anything.

I confess that I caught myself checking my phone for messages during church not long ago and wondered at my own twitchy brain.

But it was my friend’s naming of our “God-given ability to ponder” that set me on this journey of wondering about the high cost of becoming a ponder-less people.

It is interesting that we know so little about Mary, the mother of God, but one thing we are told is that she pondered.

19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2

I wonder if her propensity for pondering was a part of why she could see and hear angels and be open enough to say, “Yes” to such a wild suggestion.  Perhaps she had already playfully imagined such an impossibility somewhere along the way in her girlhood. Though often affirmed for her courage and obedience and faith, we’ve seldom connected the dots and imagined how much Mary’s tendency to ponder had to do with those more “productive” attributes.

Another friend of mine sent me this article by Chris Hedges about the high cost any culture pays for not protecting space for people to use their imaginations.

Our corporate culture has effectively severed us from human imagination. Our electronic devices intrude deeper and deeper into spaces that were once reserved for solitude, reflection and privacy. Our airwaves are filled with the tawdry and the absurd. Our systems of education and communication scorn the disciplines that allow us to see. We celebrate prosaic vocational skills and the ridiculous requirements of standardized tests. We have tossed those who think, including many teachers of the humanities, into a wilderness where they cannot find employment, remuneration or a voice. We follow the blind over the cliff. We make war on ourselves.

With imagination being such a large part of what makes us human and such a significant piece of the Image of God within us,

Can we afford to become a ponder-less people?

How can we create and protect space for pondering?

How can we begin to see and speak and act out its value in the Kingdom of God?

My ponder-prone friend Jonny Baker recently wrote about a Yoko Ono exhibit with wish trees outside the gallery.

I wish to be a woman who ponders.

I wish to live among people who ponder.

In the process of reading Jonny’s words, I thought of one more woman who might have something to add to this conversation: Lady wisdom in Proverbs 2.

1 My son, if you accept my words
and store up my commands within you,

2 turning your ear to wisdom
and applying your heart to understanding—

3 indeed, if you call out for insight
and cry aloud for understanding,

4 and if you look for it as for silver
and search for it as for hidden treasure,

5 then you will understand the fear of the Lord
and find the knowledge of God.

6 For the Lord gives wisdom;
from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

This woman is not an easy catch. She demands an ever-increasing investment from the seeker. Wisdom does not come to us in snippets and sound bites but instead in deep rhythms to be revealed and discovered as we ponder and seek.

We are a busy people. Pondering comes at a price.

At the same time, have we really considered the even higher cost of becoming a ponder-less people?

 

Do you ponder?