Idolspizing and insecurity

From Kate, I learned of this fun Washington Post piece about "idolspizing". 

Do you idolspize?

Or, more to the point, whom do you idolspize?

Let me explain. It recently became clear to me that modern life has spawned a brand new emotion, that psychological sidewalk-crack between envy and idolatry that we often succeed in jumping over, but once in a while fall right through. That’s where we meet them, those of superior beauty, character, talent and intelligence and, if friends, who are never less than loyal, supportive, generous and kind.

For this we loathe them.

It’s a fun piece, and it’s got me thinking.  I struggle with my fair share of idolspizing, particularly when I run into folks who manage to get articles and books published regularly.

I’ll be very candid:  one reason why I have so many diverse interests (athletic, academic, material, spiritual) and so forth is because of "idolspizing."  The sad little truth is that when I run into a fellow who is clearly more talented, better-looking, a faster runner, or whatever, I "idolspize" — and then comfort myself by saying "Well, he may be fast, but he doesn’t have a Ph.D" or "He may be handsomer than I am, but I know I could take him in a 10K" or "He may be on his third book while I just blog, but I’m a better public speaker", or "He has that David Yurman watch I really want, but when he opens his mouth, he’s dumb as a brick."   

Oh, I can be horribly petty.

The article stresses that

To be truly idolspicable, someone must be thisclose to your own age, background, educational achievement and career, and they must be of your gender and general situation in life…

This is where I see my character defect of constantly comparing myself to others.  Though I have many good friends in their thirties and early forties, I still struggle with comparisons with other men around my own age.  It’s getting better, mind you, as I get ever more comfortable in my own skin, but I’m still prone to unseemly bouts of "idolspizing".  I don’t compare myself to actors or celebrities  — it’s almost always to real guys I know.  (Okay, that’s not always true. I was watching an interview with Jon Bon Jovi the other day; he’s a couple of years my senior, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his skin.  What the hell does he do to look so good at his age?)

Have I mentioned that my left hook is coming along nicely in boxing class?

UPDATE:  There’s a good spiritual angle to this topic, and it’s one I’ll explore sometime soon when I’m feeling less superficial and vain, and more suffused with the Spirit.

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Some reflections on sexual harassment prevention

The newest Carnival of the Feminists is up at Mind the Gap Cardiff with many excellent things to read. 

I didn’t read any blogs while I was away in England over the weekend, so I missed this post from zuzu at Feministe about the stunning behavior last week of Maryland’s comptroller, 84 year-old William Donald Schaefer.  Zuzu quotes from this Baltimore Sun story:

Comptroller William Donald Schaefer was unapologetic yesterday after making suggestive comments to a young female aide to the governor during a meeting of the state Board of Public Works.

The incident sent some jaws dropping and drew laughter from others in the crowd of more than 100 state officials, lobbyists, journalists and business leaders attending the session.

Responding to Schaefer’s request for tea, the woman, an executive assistant in Gov. Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.’s front office, set down a thermal mug in front of the comptroller. Schaefer, 84, watched her walk away, then beckoned for her to return. When she obliged, he told her, "Walk again," staring after her as she left a ceremonial conference room at the State House.

Schaefer defended the comment in a profanity-laced rant at reporters after the meeting.

"That’s so goddamn dumb, I can’t believe it," Schaefer said when asked about the appropriateness of his remark. "She’s a pretty little girl."

She "ought to be damn happy that I observed her going out the door," Schaefer said. "The day I don’t look at pretty women is the day I die."

There’s lots of good commentary from zuzu and from other Feministe readers.

As I’ve mentioned a few times, I’ve had a very small sideline career working on issues of sexual harassment.  I helped create part of Pasadena City College’s current policy, and I’ve led workshops on preventing sexual harassment at a couple of different places, including All Saints Church and Fuller Theological Seminary.

As a man, my real interest is in reaching other men (of any age) with some basic information as to what sexual harassment is — and isn’t — and providing them with tools so that they can help create a safe, harassment-free, and comfortable workplace for everyone.

The workshop I did at Fuller was particularly successful.  A female colleague and I put on a Saturday program for Presbyterian seminarians.  The Presbyterian Church (USA) requires that all of their future pastors undergo sexual harassment awareness training, and my colleague (an ordained PCUSA minister) was asked to lead it.  She invited me to co-lead, wanting a Christian man with some background on gender and sexual harassment issues to help facilitate.  After a brief introduction to the history of sexual harassment law (and church policy), we separated into male and female groups.  My colleague went off into one room with the women; I went off with the guys.

The men ranged in age from mid-20s to early 40s; all were in the M.Div program and close to finishing their degrees.  Since Fuller is an evangelical seminary, most of the fellas were fairly conservative in their views on sexual morality, though all (in keeping with PCUSA tradition) supported the ordination of women.   I had the guys start by sharing stories and fears.  Some of the men were worried about inadvertently sexually harassing a future parishioner or colleague; others were fearful about "boundary violations" that might be consensual but still inappropriate.  Almost all of them said the sort of things I hear from lots of men these days:  "I really don’t know where the line gets drawn."  "I’m afraid to make a joke."  "Are all compliments about someone’s appearance always off-limits?"

In a sense, these guys made my job easy.   Unlike Comptroller Schaefer, they believed sexual harassment to be a real problem.   They were eager and anxious to "do the right thing", both out of a desire to be safe and loving pastors and out of a fear of the serious repercussions of violating another’s boundaries.    Through some role-playing scenarios and conversations, we were able to establish some fairly good ground rules for what constituted "appropriate" behavior.

I can’t condense a whole workshop into a single post.  (Hey, you want me to share all my tricks, ya gotta pay me to come to your workplace or church. I promise, it’s good stuff.)  But I can say that when dealing with guys who do want to do the right thing, I believe the trick to creating a safe workplace comes down to having everyone asking themselves two basic questions before they tell a joke, ask someone out, or cross any other kind of line from the professional to the personal:

1.  What’s my own real motive for saying or doing this?  What am I getting out of it?  Do I want attention?  Do I want validation?  Do I want to feel powerful?

2.  How are my words or my actions likely to be perceived?  Right intentions are never enough.  In preventing sexual harassment, men and women have to be willing to think through the consequences of their words and their behaviors.  If there’s doubt — as there often will be — it’s vital to ask someone else.  Ideally, I always recommend that a man have another guy in the workplace to whom he is privately accountable.

With Christian men, I can ask that they always ask themselves a third question.  Indeed, this third question has helped me enormously on my own journey towards accountability:

3.  How does God want me to see this person?  I know what I see, but what does God see?  One prayer I learned early in gender justice work; when in a position of temptation or danger, I learned to say "God, this is your daughter.  Help me to see her as you see her."  That works.  Every time.

But what about the William Schaefers?  What do we do with those men who refuse to acknowledge their behavior as harassment?  It’s one thing to do workshops for men who are well-intentioned but uncertain, another thing to do them for the recalcitrant and the obstinate.  This, of course, is where feminist lawyers play a vital role!  Some fellas  — like William Schaefer –  just aren’t going to "get it" until they get sued or fired.  Corporations and churches respond to the fear of litigation more rapidly than they do to the desire to create a genuinely safe and comfortable workplace for all.  In combating the scourge of sexual harassment, we ultimately need a three-fold approach: legislation to ban it, litigation to enforce the ban, and education to prevent it from happening in the first place.  But speaking from a wealth of experience, no one brings in the educators until they’ve first heard from the lawyers!

I’m available to do work in secular or church settings, folks; references can be provided on request.

“A line through the ‘occupation box’”

A couple of photos from the weekend up hereProof I didn’t get the height.

In a follow-up to my post earlier today about the "involuntary childless", I’ve been meaning to link to this post from my friend John Sloas, a stay-at-home Dad and host of the "Crooked Line" blog. Here’s his short post in its entirety:

Recently I witnessed a burglary. When the policeman arrived he interviewed me and recorded my basic information on a form. He asked the usually stuff… name, address, phone number. When it came to occupation, I said “stay-at-home dad”. The officer hesitated and then put a line through the “occupation box”. I was a bit put off by that. I wonder, when he interviews a women does he do the same? Does he put “homemaker” or “at-home mom”? Or does she get the line through the box as well? I’m guessing she gets “homemaker”. I don’t think of myself as a homemaker because that is such a “feminine” title. In reality, it is what I am. But even I resist that title because of my own culturization. I guess the same way the title of “nurse” was, at one time, strange to refer to men–thus we always want to add “male” to clarify. So, I don’t really blame the officer in giving me the line through that box. I understand it. Society isn’t always sure what to do with men who stay home with the kiddos–we don’t fit into the established boxes.

Bold emphases are mine.  My hat is off to John — and to men like him.  We’ve still got work to do, though, both to help stay-at-home Dads embrace the title "homemaker" and to encourage the rest of the culture to help them to do it.

A longer and wandering post about the “involuntarily childless”, social policy, and men

All the British papers this weekend were focused on the "fertility crisis."  The Observer warns:

Britain is suffering a baby ‘shortage’ with potentially disastrous consequences as work pressures force young women to shelve plans for a family, according to dramatic new research urging an £11bn campaign to boost parenthood.

Women have not turned against becoming mothers and, if they could have the number of children they actually wanted, more than 90,000 extra babies a year would be born, according to calculations by the respected think-tank, the Institute for Public Policy Research.

But the report says the professional and financial penalties of childbearing – a mid-skilled 24-year-old who gives birth will earn £564,000 less over her lifetime than a childless counterpart, as motherhood narrows her career options – mean many are delaying pregnancy until it may be too late to conceive.

The ‘baby gap’ emerging between maternal desire and reality now threatens a demographic crisis as too few children are born to support future elderly dependants, the study warns.

On the one hand, we’ve been hearing this sort of thing in the USA for a while now, though our demographics are certainly different from those in the UK and in continental Europe.  On the other hand, let me make it clear that I liked the tone of the report in the (gently leftish) Observer.   So much of the debate about marriage and motherhood in this country seems to involve social conservatives bemoaning what they see as the "selfishness" of younger women today.  In the American argument, feminism is often blamed as a chief culprit for declining birth rates; women seduced by false notions of independence and autonomy peddled by those of us in the feminist establishment are robbing themselves and all of society of the product of their wombs.

But the argument in Britain, at least in the responsible press, is couched in different terms.  The opening line of the article quoted above blames not feminism or individual women, but "work pressures" and the "professional and financial penalties of childbearing" as the source of the problem of declining fertility.  Even more importantly, the study that the Observer and other British papers relied on bases its claim on the desires of real women.  According to this British study, women would want to have more children — and perhaps have them earlier — if the financial and professional costs to childbearing weren’t so high and so disproportionately born by women.

One of the goals of feminism, of course, is to make motherhood a choice.  Freud — and many social conservatives in the culture wars — claim that biology is destiny; to these folks,  it is only through motherhood that a woman realizes her fullest potential as a human being.  According to this perspective, an unused uterus is a tragic missed opportunity that a childless woman will invariably deeply regret as she moves past her reproductive years.  Feminism rejects that claim, even as it honors those women who do choose to be mothers.  Yes, I’m well aware that from time to time, some isolated voices in the feminist community have expressed hostility towards all reproductive behavior, but they are in the minority.  Feminism objects to legal, cultural, or social compulsion towards motherhood, not towards motherhood that is freely and eagerly chosen.

So on the one hand, part of vital feminist work has to be ensuring that women understand that they do have choices.  It is important to make clear that happiness is possible outside of a relationship with a man, or outside of bearing children.  Heck, this is even a biblical position!  Paul encouraged young women not to marry or have children, recognizing that what matters above all else is a relationship with Christ, not with spouse or children.

At the same time, we’ve got to be equally concerned with making motherhood a more viable option for those women who would like to have children while also having professional lives outside the home.  While some women who express a longing for children may be doing so to comply with family or social expectations, others are no doubt expressing a powerful internal desire.  It’s a desire we’ve got to listen to, and as the British report suggests, a desire we need to respond to in concrete ways.  From the Observer article:

Jenny Watson, head of the Equal Opportunities Commission, said the ‘baby gap’ partly reflected women changing their minds or not meeting the right man. But she added: ‘It should tell us that we don’t have a very family-friendly culture, and it should concern us.’

Britain has ‘too many women remaining involuntarily childless’, the report concludes, while high fertility and early childbirth is ‘systematically associated with severely reduced prospects’.

So encouraging early marriage and large families (the conservative suggestion) isn’t, in and of itself, an adequate response.  The conservative argument is that what the report calls "reduced prospects" are really just the trappings of success in a materialistic society.  Women should come to terms early with the notion that they will have to make hard choices, and "reduced prospects" are the inevitable price that must be paid for the far more sublime and enduring delights of bearing and raising children.  Feminists respond by rejecting what they see as a false dichotomy; only in a society where there are no communal and governmental responsibilities for helping families raise children will women be forced to choose between motherhood and independence.

I’m haunted by the phrase "involuntarily childless."  I think of my own students, to whom I often pose the question: "when is the right age to have children, and how will that fit into your future career plans?"  Many of them don’t take the risk of infertility seriously (it’s amazing that many do assume that getting pregnant at 38 is going to be every bit as easy as getting pregnant at 18); others don’t yet grasp how brutal the demands of simultaneously pursuing motherhood and career can be. Of course, we who teach have an obligation to be honest with our young women about biological realities.  But we also have an obligation to get them to question a system that forces the sort of unhappy choices that so many women seem to be making according to this British study.

The study suggests a variety of responses:

The Institutes for Public Policy Research urges government intervention to raise the birth rate by making working parenthood more appealing to both mothers and fathers.

It advocates free nursery places for two-year-olds, paternity leave paid at 90 per cent of a man’s salary, and three months of paid parental leave to be taken at any point before the child is five, with one month reserved for fathers. That would cost up to £11bn a year by 2020 – about £183 for every British man, woman and child.

As a pro-feminist man, I’m especially heartened by the call for greater paternity leave.  If government policy is to be effective in creating a culture in which women can "have it all", it’s clear that fathers will have to be a critical part of the solution.  The rewards for men — particularly in terms of a closer and more intimate relationship with their very young children — are obvious, and, to my mind, exciting.  I’d love the idea of taking a semester off — at 90% pay — to stay at home with a future child while my wife worked full-time.  I haven’t had children of my own, but I know how I feel about the little ones who belong to my family and friends. I’ve never accepted — not for a damned second — that my biology makes me less inclined to nurture and love, and I’d love to see more policy that honors that potential within me and within other fathers.  With greater commitment from the state and from fathers, we can help to move past the dilemma so evocatively described in the IPPR study.

Six notes on a brief trip

It’s the first day of the spring semester, and I’m back in the office.  I still have grading to finish from the winter intersession, and that will occupy most of my free time today.

We spent the weekend in England, visiting my brother and his family down in chilly, windy, and rainy Exeter.  My last three visits to the UK have been in March, December, and February; I think I need to break out of this rut and go in the summer months!

Yes, it’s a long way to go for even an extended holiday weekend, and I’m feeling the effects of the long plane ride this morning.  But my brother and his family are enormously important to me, and I’m grateful to have the time and the resources to travel to see them yearly, if only for a very short time.

I promise a more thoughtful post later today, but for now, while things are fresh in my mind, a few notes from our trip:

1.  I didn’t run or work out once during the entire time we were in England.  My body needed the rest, and I’m jumping back into a training schedule today.  I don’t know whether this is great advice or not, but I have found that sometimes, after a month or two of very hard training, it can be a good idea to take four or five days in a row completely off. 

2.  I ate at least a dozen Cadbury Cream Eggs.

3.  We went to a lovely Evensong at St. Michael and All Angels, my brother’s Anglo-Catholic parish (where he and his wife were recently wed).  I enjoy being around the very, very high churchtypes; every service I’ve ever been to there concludes with the Angelus, and it’s still a stunner to my evangelical side to hear the "Hail Mary" recited in an Anglican church.  My brother and his fellow parishioners are adamant that they aren’t Protestants, merely "Catholics in the English way."

4.  The BBC coverage of the Winter Olympics was disappointing.  A joy to have it without commercials, but two hours straight of curling was a bit much to take.  Curling, by the way, strikes me as the ideal "unisex" sport.   Anyone want to tell me why women and men couldn’t compete against each other quite successfully?

5.  Watching the BAFTAs (the British Academy Awards) was fun;  I’ll note that it was also moderately exciting to be flying back to Los Angeles last night on the same plane as Jake Gyllenhaal.   He was seen at baggage claim, clutching his BAFTA award for his performance in Brokeback Mountain.  (He was accompanied on the flight by Justin Timberlake, a pairing that mystifies me a bit.)

6.  And if there’s one thing I really love about England, it’s the newspapers. I read the Guardian and the Independent daily during our trip, the Observer on Sunday, and a few other dailies as a supplement.   At my brother’s urging, I even bought a copy of his beloved Morning Star, the daily paper of the Left (still largely under the control of the tiny British Communist Party.)  Yesterday morning, I read it on the train from Exeter to Paddington, and got several curious stares from the young businessman across from me, bored by his Telegraph.

Right.  Some grading, some emailing, some "first meeting of classes", and another post up soon.

Thursday Short Poem: Molton’s “If God…”

A reminder that I won’t be posting again until Tuesday the 21st.

Last Saturday afternoon, the wonderful Susan Russell preached at our children’s service on the "prodigal son."  She did so kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a dozen little ones who, it might safely be said, got only part of the story.  But it reminded me that I have been meaning to put up this fine poem from Warren L. Molton, who has a moving meditation on the prodigal to offer.

If God Is That Sublime Moment

If God is that sublime moment
in the story when Jesus said,
"And his father seeing him afar off . . . "
which could mean, of course,
that he had been watching every day for years,
longing for him,
straining to see him afar off—
it’s that afar off that moves me . . .

or perhaps he only watched
in the late afternoon
thinking he would try to get home before dark,
or early in the morning
after pressing on all through the night,
or at high noon
when his father stood
shadowless under the sun
and remembered his son’s
innocence and sweetness . . .

or perhaps it was just by chance
he saw him
when he looked up
from repairing a harness
or tying a new broom
or from a nap in his favorite chair,
suddenly there he was,
his lost son
coming home . . .

or perhaps he only saw him
because it was his birthday—
his,
not his son’s—
when his eldest,
forgetting the persistence of an old man’s dream,
said, "Make a wish, Father,"
and he did
and looked up . . .
seeing him afar off.

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Giving thanks for the community college

Though I will of course have a Thursday Short Poem up tomorrow, this will be my last post until next Tuesday, February 21. 

I’m sitting in my office as I write this, while in a classroom down the hall, my Western Civ students take their final exam of the winter intersession.  I give open-book, open-note essay finals — which manage to be demanding (especially in terms of time management) but do not require careful proctoring.  My students in the 8:00AM women’s studies class seemed particularly anxious this morning.  They’ve been a remarkably good group, and I only wish I could do a better job of giving them emotional and spiritual encouragement while still inspiring their best work.

When my wife and I go out in Pasadena or surrounding communities of the West San Gabriel valley, more often than not we will run into a former student of mine.  They approach shyly or boldly, call me "Hugo" or "Professor Schweitzer" (few master the correct pronunciation of the surname), and tell me what they are up to these days.  Conservatively, I’ve taught more than 10,000 students in the past 13 years since I first arrived at PCC as a nervous twenty-six year-old adjunct in 1993.  (I got the full-time gig the following year.)  I love living in a community where I am guaranteed to run into so many former and current students, and though not all may remember me fondly, I’m touched by how many of them are eager to come up and say hello.  (It’s been worth a heck of a lot of free desserts in a heck of a lot of restaurants, too!)

I rarely remember names of my students for more than a year or two.  A few outstanding ones always linger in my consciousness, however, and as I age, I find myself asking "I wonder how so-and-so turned out? Did whatshisname go on to medical school?  Did that young Army sergeant stay in the service, or did she go to grad school?" I think of the students who’ve brought me their stories of heartbreak and struggle, of poverty, of early and unplanned parenthood.  I worry about them and wonder about them and, eventually, let most of them slip into the back of my mind to be replaced by a new "crop" of hundreds.  I teach seven classes with 40 students each every semester, not counting the occasional "large enrollment" class or the summer and winter courses I teach.  It’s so hard to connect with more than a few of these folks — and yet, even after more than a dozen years in this profession, I’m still hungry to do so.

Every semester, a student asks me why I am teaching at a community college.  "Wouldn’t you rather be at a four-year university, or a liberal arts school?"  When I first came to Pasadena City College, the answer was a "Heck, yes!"  I did feel as if I ought to be somewhere more exclusive, more intellectually reputable, where the workload would be lighter and the students better prepared.  But today, I always make clear that I love it here.  If I taught at a more exclusive institution, would I get the first-generation immigrant single mothers who work three jobs and sleep three hours a night?  Would I get the recovering addicts and alcoholics and parolees who are trying to turn their lives around?  Would I get the kids from wealthy families who went off to four-year schools straight out of high school, flunked out, and are now desperate for a second chance?  Would I get classes filled with students who, not ten years ago, were living in Nigeria, Russia, China, and El Salvador?  Above all, would I get as many of them? 

From time to time, I’m haunted by the sense I’m not living up to my potential.  My father taught at UCSB for four decades, my brother is at the University of Exeter with his third book on the way.  At times, I confess I’ve felt hurt when folks have reacted dismissively to my work:  "Oh, he’s just a community college teacher, not a real professor."  (I usually resist the urge to talk about my Ph.D. from a Top 10 program; after all, it seems years and years ago that I researched and wrote my long and dull narrative about the bishops of Durham and the Anglo-Scottish wars.)   I know I could "write my way" into a different job; my teaching evaluations are (I note immodestly) generally excellent.   But in the end, I know I belong here.   Not having ever taken classes at a community college, it took me a while to grasp the vital importance of their mission — now, I am a fierce defender of two-year institutions. 

Like the church I worship in, my college welcomes everyone regardless of their past. I honestly  can’t imagine working anywhere else.

Oh, and another realization:  As I’ve written before, I tend to see teaching as an act of intellectual seduction.  Though the lively and engaged students interest me, I enjoy the challenge of the bored, the disaffected, and those who loathe history.  I want to use every tool I’ve got to craft lectures that inspire, interest, arouse, and awaken!  In my gender studies courses, I want to make a commitment to feminist principles seem vitally important; in my modern history class, I want to make the most unlikely of students care about the causes of World War One.  Do I "get off" on what I do?  You bet, and I’m a better teacher for it.  And in the end, the community college, because of its enormous diversity and openness, has the greatest number of students for me to try and "seduce" into caring about the past and into making new and vital political and intellectual commitments.

Two church notes

Someone just sent me a link to the "Johari window".  It’s a self-indulgent little thing.  You can fill mine out and get your own.

A couple of Episcopal Church notes this morning.

My traffic has zoomed up today, as Kendall Harmon has linked to last Thursday’s post on agape, All Saints youth, and the progressive notion of salvation.  Kendall comments:

I am with Hugo that we do not get saved alone. However, I worry about his presentation of salvation here. Where is the notion of grace? It sounds as though our obedience is necessary for salvation, if salvation “lies in living out the greatest commandment, which is to practice unconditional agape love.” While such loves flows from the receiving of God’s gift of eternal life, it is not only Christ’s love and sacrifice which is a gift but even the faith to receive it also. We do not have to do anything–it is a free gift. Hugo’s definition is too horizontal–it is not only not focused enough on the cross, it lacks a deep emphasis on God’s undeserved mercy.Hats off to Hugo, though, for getting into theology with the kids. Too much Episcopal youth ministry is entertainment and fellowship without theology–it needs to be all three.

Kendall’s may be the most widely read conservative Anglican blog in America; his commentary is always thoughtful and gracious — while remaining tenaciously committed to traditional theological principles.  There’s a lot for me to think about in his words.  My evangelical commitment to unmerited grace sits in tension with my progressive commitment to the vital importance of "works"!

Kendall’s commenters also have quite a bit to say, some of it helpful — some not.

The Episcopal Church’s first openly gay bishop, Gene Robinson, has entered a treatment center for alcoholism.  In a letter released yesterday, Robinson writes:

Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I am writing to you from an alcohol treatment center where on February 1, with the encouragement and support of my partner, daughters and colleagues, I checked myself in to deal with my increasing dependence on alcohol. Over the 28 days I will be here, I will be dealing with the disease of alcoholism-which, for years, I have thought of as a failure of will or discipline on my part, rather than a disease over which my particular body simply has no control, except to stop drinking altogether.

During my first week here, I have learned so much. The extraordinary experience of community here will inform my ministry for years to come. I eagerly look forward to continuing my recovery in your midst. Once again, God is proving His desire and ability to bring an Easter out of Good Friday. Please keep me in your prayers and know that you are in mine.

I am praying for Gene Robinson daily, and invite readers to join me in doing so.  I cannot think of a man who has been under more pressure, spiritual and temporal, in the past three years than the Bishop of New Hampshire.  My brief time as a Pentecostal taught me that spiritual warfare is real, and though I am reluctant to admit it, the less-rational part of me does believe that human beings can be attacked by dark forces.  How much anger and hatred has been directed towards Bishop Robinson since his elevation in 2003?  No matter how careful he is, no matter how attentive he is to spiritual discipline, he is still "under siege" from the enmity of an extraordinary number of folks who hold him personally responsible for the potential break-up of the Anglican Communion.   To what degree these spiritual attacks helped exacerbate Gene’s problem with alcohol, we cannot know.

I do know that I have battled what Gene Robinson now battles.   Though I entered my first treatment center in 1989 (’twas my graduation present after college), I did not finally get sober until July 1, 1998.   I haven’t had a drink, a drug, or an unprescribed pill since.  It took me many years to "get with the program", but with God’s grace, the loving intervention of family, and a fellowship of friends, I finally "got it."   What some folks call an "obsession of the mind" no longer haunts me.  I am praying today that Gene Robinson, a child of God and a bishop of His church, a leader of extraordinary goodness, generosity, and courage, will find the recovery from addiction that has changed my life in countless ways.

The most superficial, shallow, and trivial post of the year

It’s Valentine’s evening, and we’ll be going out to dinner soon, but a couple of quick, light-hearted notes.  There’s lots of serious debate going on in the comments about gender, sex roles, theology, race, and so forth; it’s time for a break.

I’m thrilled with the adorable new Paul Frank watch my wife gave me today!  She knows how much I love his stuff, especially the accessories.

And for those of you who want to know how I spent my evening last night, my beloved thought I should share that after an exhausting day, I settled in for a couple of hours of frantic channel-changing, as I went back and forth between the Westminster dog show and coverage of Olympic pairs figure skating.  I watched while carefully pressing and hanging out my wonderful new pair of Lucky Jeans (women’s, size 10, long).  As if this behavior wasn’t amusing enough to my patient and understanding spouse, she has been reminding me all day that at one point, I shrieked at the television coverage of the terrier class: "Ohmygod, when that Jack Russell comes out I’m just going to lose it!"

Man’s gotta be very comfortable in his own sexuality to share all this…  or merely, as in my case, playfully provocative.

Off to dinner.  Something serious tomorrow, I promise.

Roback Morse gets it really, really wrong

If there’s one thing that National Review does loyally, it’s flog anti-feminist books. Last month, the conservatives worked themselves into ecstasy over the latest screed from one of their own contributors, Kate O’Beirne’s Women Who Make the World Worse : and How Their Radical Feminist Assault Is Ruining Our Schools, Families, Military, and Sports.  How she managed to leave out the clear and compelling connection between feminism and Hurricane Katrina is beyond me, but perhaps she and Pat Robertson haven’t been speaking lately.

Today, the Valentine’s love fest is with Jennifer Roback Morse, who is a far better writer than O’Beirne and thus a more troublesome opponent.  Morse’s new book is Smart Sex: Finding Life-Long Love in  a Hook-Up World.  Despite her background as an economist, Morse has emerged as a formidable writer on family and marriage issues from a traditional Christian perspective.  What I like about the interview with Morse in today’s NRO is that it summarizes nicely what troubles me so much about the whole contemporary debate over marriage and family.  The interview begins:

Kathryn Jean Lopez (National Review editor): : You’ve written a book called Smart Sex. That suggests there must be "Dumb Sex." Is there anything to "Dumb Sex" that I might not expect?

Jennifer Roback Morse: I don’t think you’d be surprised to learn that many forms of recreational sex often turn out to be quite foolish, and incidentally, not much fun. Every mature person realizes the potential dangers and disappointments of hooking up, shacking up and just plain messing around. The real surprise is to learn how systematic these disappointments are, and to learn the underlying problem that makes these disappointments so common.

Parsing her statement, I actually find little to disagree with.  Most feminists, both Christian and secular, would agree that there are always "potential dangers" in any sexual behavior, inside or outside of marriage.   But "potential" is not the same as "certain", and saying that "many forms of recreational sex often turn out to be quite foolish"  is not the same as saying "all forms".  Having read Morse’s book (or, to be honest, having skimmed it), I don’t think she’s as open-minded as her language in the interview implies.  I’m happy to agree that casual sex can lead to heartache and disappointment; I’m just not prepared to say that the possibility of misfortune is the same as a guarantee thereof.

Frankly, most folks aren’t likely to buy the conservative notion that sex outside of marriage will invariably lead to unhappiness.  Conservative Christians are on better ground when they make the argument that Lauren Winner made in Real Sex (which I reviewed last year).  Winner argues that the best case for chastity is not rooted in happiness but in obedience.  As she points out effectively, conservatives make a huge mistake when they insist that sexual sin will invariably make folks unhappy.  Sometimes, she writes, sin will make us feel good and we won’t feel bad at all; the real argument for chastity must be based on fidelity to Scripture rather than one’s own longing for fulfillment.  I can respect that line of reasoning much more than the rather patronizing — and surprisingly secular — notion that Morse and her ilk make, that pre-marital sex will always lead to hurt.

Morse mixes homey advice with nasty anti-feminism.  Here’s this whopper:

Lopez: What is your biggest beef with the women’s movement, vis-à-vis how it has hurt marriage?

Morse: That is a tough question, because the women’s movement is so deeply culpable. However, if I had to name one issue, it would be the truly perverse view of equality that so much of the women’s movement embraced. Like much of the modern Left, the women’s movement insisted on "sameness" as their definition of equality. The fact is that the human species is a gendered species. We come in two sexes, male and female, that can never be made fully equal. This is one of the most basic biological facts of our species. You’d think our modern scientific age could accept this.

Bold emphasis is mine.

Yup, it was the feminist movement that made me get divorced three times.  It had nothing to do with the fact that I was a neurotic, self-absorbed narcissist who tended to attract women at my same level of emotional and spiritual development.   Poor blameless me!  Betty Friedan did it!

And Jennifer, who are these feminists who insist on "sameness"?  Who among us denies biological reality?  Real "sameness" would mean not letting men use urinals in public restrooms (or teaching women to pee standing up).  No mainstream contemporary feminist figure denies the importance of biological difference; Morse is erecting a tired straw woman to knock down.

I am horrified by this line of hers: We come in two sexes, male and female, that can never be made fully equal.  That’s radically unbiblical and politically extreme.  What she could have said is this: We come in two sexes, male and female, that can never be made fully identical.  But as I never tire of telling my students, "Don’t buy the notion that equality equals sameness."  We can appreciate and celebrate differences while demanding equality in the public and the private sphere.  Men can pee standing up more easily than women; that’s a biological fact.  Men aren’t as nurturing as women; that’s a pernicious socially constructed myth.  Morse, like most social conservatives, conveniently blurs the distinction between the immutable and the constructed while claiming that feminists always ignore the reality of the former. 

I tell ya, it gets my boxer briefs all in a twist.

UPDATE:  Boxer briefs still twisted, but I do want to add — before my friends in the trans community write in — that there are many of us who might also take issue with the notion that "we come in (just) two sexes".  But that’s another post.