During smoke break for my MFA Non-fiction workshop tonight, my teacher mentioned smelling pot on the way out to our mid-workshop smoke-break area. That naturally led to someone's mentioning crack, and then heroin, the drug progression chain increasing, until I mentioned cheese puffs. Specifically, that in high school, my friends and I would stay up late and watch The Empire Strikes Back and try to smoke cheese puffs. Not Cheetos--too dense--but cheese puffs, the big, fat, airy ones. Everyone laughed, which was good, because I had been and still was, to some degree, pissed.
One of the workshop pieces up for critique tonight was written by a Catholic. It was half an account of her leaving the church as a child and coming back later, and half a conversion story. Ultimately, in my mind, the piece failed because of its morally relativistic stance, but that wasn't brought up as a concern. What was brought up, in various forms, is that a piece like that wouldn't be workable in our class because of its inaccessibility. To be more specific, several people said that the subject matter (faith), because it's irrational and illogical, can't be communicated.
I wanted to protest, to go on record as one of the illogical people, and say that no, to the contrary, I find Christianity quite reasonable, even logical and rational to a large degree. I wanted to request that each person sit down with me and have a conversation and then judge whether I were being irrational. I began daydreaming, imagining someone then protesting, "Yes, but you say that because you already 'have faith.'" Then I respond, without pause, "No, I came to Christianity because I found it reasonable, rational, even logical." The class erupts in cheers and cries and repents en-masse, and the teacher writes A++++++++ on the board ala Ralphie in A Christmas Story.
Instead, I sat and fumed. I listened to what I considered unfair assumptions and lack of critical reasoning and silently pointed people out, feeling glad and proud of myself that I wasn't so shallow. I found myself thinking, without using those words I hate so much, "There but for the grace of God go I." God, no.
I claim to be a Christian, and I claim to find it the most reasonable account of the world I find myself in. At certain moments, I consider Jesus' condemnation of the Pharisee who pointed people out, puffed up, thanking God that he wasn't like they, and I realize, pointedly and painfully, that not only does Christianity make sense of the world, but it makes sense of me. This kind of thing happens to me a lot, and no other belief system that I know of so fiercely and logically explains the shit and hubris in my own heart. This is what I should have said. Instead, I sat and fumed, looked across the room at a lady eating cheese puffs, and realized what a jerk I am.
This isn't, I hope, some cutesy attempt at a Bible lesson. What it is, I hope, is an opportunity for those of you who don't know me to hear me say, "Hi, my name is Jeremy, and I'm a Christian. I find Christianity the only reasonable, rational, and often-logical explanation for the absolute jackass I can sometimes be. It's possible I've sat across a table from you at some point and mentally crucified you, and I know that 'sorry' seems the most unsatisfactory, unreasonable response, and though I don't deserve it, I would like to sit down at a table with you and maybe eat some cheese puffs and talk. I know I don't deserve that, but if you should, I wouldn't be surprised--you're most likely a more forgiving person than I am, and I'm used to that kind of grace."
Posted by ghetto monk at November 10, 2004 12:14 AM | TrackBackI really enjoyed this one...
Posted by: barlow at November 10, 2004 11:29 AMyeah, well, at least you didn't write a short story where your character talked about going to church and carried a bible with him but also used the words "shit" and "damn" and have everyone wonder about his spirituality. (that sentence isn't so hot.)
I didn't know what to think about it. I had forgotten that some people think that screwing up (not that swearing is screwing up anyways, but...) is antithetical to Christianity.
Maybe I just swear too much. Maybe that's the problem.
Posted by: emily jane at November 10, 2004 12:55 PMthanks for your honesty
Posted by: zach at November 10, 2004 01:48 PMWhere the hell did you get a writing class full of logical positivists and dont they know "logical" writing is math?
I'm only interested in writing about illogical things, extralogical things, postlogical antilogical paralogical quasilogical and every other bleeding beating crying human and confused thing.
Posted by: daniel silliman at November 10, 2004 03:16 PMdan, to her credit, the teacher differentiated between "specialized" content matter and inherently irrational subject matter, which is good since the ensuing piece dealt, primarily, with "love." it was mostly the students who claimed, assuredly and apparently without the notion that others might disagree that faith is an absolute irrational, illogical leap. that's what got me. if i wanted to leap into irrationality, i would have joined a traveling circus.
Posted by: jeremy at November 10, 2004 05:13 PMTwo things. First, I love the mention of A+++++++ ala Ralphie in the Christmas story. I also have very similar fantasies of my entirely lacking abilities-ok, maybe that didn't make any sense but hopefully you get the jist. Basically it just made me laugh. So thanks.
Secondly and most importantly, this really hit home with me. I was brought up in an environment that heavily endorsed the "I'm obnoxiously proud to be a Christian" philosophy-a philosophy that no one, especially a Christian, ever needs to be taught because we can conjure up enough pride all on our own without any encouragement. I could go on and on but I will spare you. Once again, thanks. Great piece of writing.
Posted by: heidi at November 10, 2004 05:32 PMbarlow and zach, thanks. so is it as unseasonably not-cold in st. louis as it is here?
Posted by: jeremy at November 10, 2004 08:06 PMif swearing were the worst of someone's problems, ej, i would secretly despise him.
Posted by: jeremy at November 10, 2004 08:08 PMheidi, thanks. when i consider my propensity to be that obnoxious christian, i better understand the scriptures' call to self-control.
Posted by: jeremy at November 10, 2004 08:09 PMi, too, liked the a+++++++ reference. and how the rest of the post was about shooting your eye out.
i crucify and have imaginary arguments with people in my head too often...lately with family.
it's late, and i'm not sure how much of this makes sense, but thanks for keepin' it real, Christian jeremy.
Posted by: steph at November 10, 2004 10:27 PMi know for myself the people i dislike the most are the ones who remind me of the yuck in my own life - the pharisees are very hard for me to love, because i don't want to own those parts of me that are, shall we say 'pharisaical'?
i'd love to sit and have coffee with you jeremy, as i flew over spokane twice last week i grieved that there was no time for that to happen. cheese puffs, coffee and grace - sounds good to me!
Posted by: bobbie at November 11, 2004 06:09 AMI love reading Juicy's work. I've known him for a very long time and I can see that what he writes about is real and is him.
Posted by: Gavin at November 11, 2004 07:15 AMUnfortunately, I was (am) the guy who didn't (doesn't) have enough self-control to crucify others only in my mind. I did the sort of thing you describe, with my mouth, constantly in college philosophy classes.
Other Pharisees thought it was cool, but Christ would have been better served had I taken up smoking and kept my mouth closed on a cigarette.
I'm thankful that my professors did not crucify me with their words.
Posted by: rob at November 11, 2004 09:28 AMsteph, you're welcome. i need to do it more often.
Posted by: jeremy at November 11, 2004 11:30 AMsounds good, bobbie. and i think the principle of hating in others what you hate in yourself is, for me, the scariest part of marriage (hypothetical).
Posted by: jeremy at November 11, 2004 11:32 AMgavin, fancy meeting you here. please don't make me use your childhood nickname on here. i'm so close.
Posted by: jeremy at November 11, 2004 11:32 AMrob, in college, i was the guy who liked to do the same, but with those whom i considered "weaker" christians. it's shameful to think about, as i imagine, 5 or 10 or 20 years later, i'll probably look back on me now and think the same thing. yeah, so i'm grateful for others' patience with me, their own willingness to hold their tongues toward me.
Posted by: jeremy at November 11, 2004 11:35 AMwell, Phil had a lot more problems than swearing...I mean, swearing wasn't supposed to be a problem in the story. His inability to sustain meaningful conversations was the problem. But, oh well...
Posted by: emily jane at November 11, 2004 12:09 PMmarriage, and even worse having children. when you see yourself in them you want to take a plunger to their psyche and remove every trace of yourself out of their little hearts.
that is the worst, to know i've passed on something i abhor about myself to my precious children. it breaks my heart.
Posted by: bobbie at November 11, 2004 01:16 PMJ, You should read Searching For God Knows What by D. Miller. Aside from the awful pronoun agreement problems ("When a person sits... they ..." Argh!), it is saying some things I think we're thinking. I think. let me know if we think this.
Posted by: Serven at November 16, 2004 07:33 PMThanks, Doug. I have some definite opinions on Blue Like Jazz (which I read twice--once as a reader and once as a writer), and I haven't decided yet whether I want to invest myself in another one. But if you think it's different enough from BLJ to warrant a read, I'll look into it.
Posted by: jeremy at November 16, 2004 08:49 PMI haven't read BLJ - what's your take? Give it a gander at B&N without buying it first.
Posted by: Serven at November 17, 2004 09:39 PMMaybe I'll send you my take via e-mail unless I decide to write a full review, which I doubt I'll do very soon, simply for the sake of time.
Posted by: jeremy at November 17, 2004 10:04 PM