subvert --or-- the dangers of assimilation.
"If I, even for a moment, accept my culture's definition of me, I am rendered harmless."
Eugene Peterson wrote this in a book my staff team is reading right now: The Contemplative Pastor, and I found it to be both a profound and sobering thought. Few set out in this life with a desire to be harmless. We each hope to affect the world, in ways spanning large to small. Large enough to leave a legacy or small enough to at least be noticed and liked. We want to be applauded, or at least sufficiently accepted.
Herein lies the problem. It's my attempts at applause and acceptance that yield me to what the culture expects, or still worse, what it demands. I run to stereotypes - Austin Texan, Relevant Christian, Compassionate Conservative - not because these titles affect change, but because they provide much of the glory with little of the rejection and work.
We hate stereotypes of ourselves but demand them of others. Labels keep people in clearly defined categories, in boxes that free us of angst and uncertainty. I know that engineers are smart but nerdy, and that sorority girls are beautiful but not brainy. I don't actually know these things of course, but the definitions free me of further thought. They safeguard me from the uneasiness of not knowing.
I'm auditing a class this semester. In it, there are upwards of 400 students, far too many to ever really know. The content of the course centers around relationships and communication, and in the middle of the lectures, of the questions and answers, I've begun to feel an emptiness. As my professor asks people personal questions about themselves - whether they have boyfriends or girlfriends, what they do for fun on the weekends - I gather expectation from his tone. He expects lots of drinking and sex. He expects cramming for tests and the occasional challenge of coming to class hung over. He expects to have encountered the very likenesses of MTV and The O.C.
The responses and relieved laughter of my classmates do little to subvert these cultural definitions. Instead they raise them on a banner high. I have to wonder how many actually value the culturally mandated lifestyle of a college student, and how many just value the acceptance that comes in embracing what the culture is preaching. I know I do. My culture is different - it's post-collegiate, post-modern Christianity. It's expectations are different - to be moral but still relevant, spiritual but still rational. I find a safe place there, rather than in the grace of God.
It turns out that a man in safety is rather harmless. Easily defined, without much in the way of personality. This makes for a safe person and, in turn, a lousy friend. Culturally defined, I demand but feigned glances. I must deal in the anxiety that comes from being accepted by my world, a world of shifting values.
Eugene Peterson wrote this in a book my staff team is reading right now: The Contemplative Pastor, and I found it to be both a profound and sobering thought. Few set out in this life with a desire to be harmless. We each hope to affect the world, in ways spanning large to small. Large enough to leave a legacy or small enough to at least be noticed and liked. We want to be applauded, or at least sufficiently accepted.
Herein lies the problem. It's my attempts at applause and acceptance that yield me to what the culture expects, or still worse, what it demands. I run to stereotypes - Austin Texan, Relevant Christian, Compassionate Conservative - not because these titles affect change, but because they provide much of the glory with little of the rejection and work.
We hate stereotypes of ourselves but demand them of others. Labels keep people in clearly defined categories, in boxes that free us of angst and uncertainty. I know that engineers are smart but nerdy, and that sorority girls are beautiful but not brainy. I don't actually know these things of course, but the definitions free me of further thought. They safeguard me from the uneasiness of not knowing.
I'm auditing a class this semester. In it, there are upwards of 400 students, far too many to ever really know. The content of the course centers around relationships and communication, and in the middle of the lectures, of the questions and answers, I've begun to feel an emptiness. As my professor asks people personal questions about themselves - whether they have boyfriends or girlfriends, what they do for fun on the weekends - I gather expectation from his tone. He expects lots of drinking and sex. He expects cramming for tests and the occasional challenge of coming to class hung over. He expects to have encountered the very likenesses of MTV and The O.C.
The responses and relieved laughter of my classmates do little to subvert these cultural definitions. Instead they raise them on a banner high. I have to wonder how many actually value the culturally mandated lifestyle of a college student, and how many just value the acceptance that comes in embracing what the culture is preaching. I know I do. My culture is different - it's post-collegiate, post-modern Christianity. It's expectations are different - to be moral but still relevant, spiritual but still rational. I find a safe place there, rather than in the grace of God.
It turns out that a man in safety is rather harmless. Easily defined, without much in the way of personality. This makes for a safe person and, in turn, a lousy friend. Culturally defined, I demand but feigned glances. I must deal in the anxiety that comes from being accepted by my world, a world of shifting values.
posted by Brett at 8:10 PM
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