I admit to knowing very little about God.  At times, I wonder if this overshadows what I do know.

In my doubt, I have always known God.  I believe in a God that has never left me.  In the darkness of my faith struggles God remained.

Today I was in Pier 1 with a friend.  I commented on the cute UNICEF Christmas cards to my friend.  Another shopper said, “Too bad they kill babies.”  I smiled, but didn’t say anything to her.  The sale’s clerk told me how the money each box of cards helps provide clean water for over a hundred children.  The previous lady started in on killing babies again–keep in mind she was not apart of our conversation in any way.  I looked at my friend and told her all that commotion about it made me want to buy cards.

Guess who was listening?  Same lady, she went on yelling at my friend and I about it was her right to say what she wanted to say.  My friend, who is very outspoken, kept it together.  We never engaged this woman at all.  Although, she returned with another friend both yelling through the store that UNICEF kills babies and that abortion is wrong.

I was looking at cards.  I think it would have been less odd to feel compelled to tell a stranger–Hey I think UNICEF supports some things I don’t agree with, like abortion.  It let’s me know her point of view and she let’s her feelings be known.  I would have smiled and moved on with my shopping.  This turn of events of yelling without any dialogue from the other side was odd.  The poor sales clerk was very shaken up over the whole thing.  She kept apologizing to us.  When we walked out of the store, I expected to be greeted by those women with more information.

I am very tolerant of other’s opinions.  Let them be known, tell me what you think.  I don’t mind hearing things I don’t necessarily agree with, but this whole shopping experience left me baffled.

It seems to me that an awful lot of people are talking, but not enough people are asking questions.  One person who I can always count on to ask great questions is my good friend, Anne, as you can see from her many thought-provoking posts here on PMIAB.  I have found another wonderful inquirer in David Dark, who raises questions as well as eyebrows from the front cover of his newest book, The Sacredness of Questioning Everything.  You can find numerous reviews of Dark’s book online.  Read them if you like, but you will only be wasting time that could be spent procuring and reading the book itself. 

As for me, I could quote ad nauseum from the book—and have elsewhere (you’re welcome, Facebook friends!), but I will appropriate here just one extended passage that I found personally remarkable, from the chapter on questioning our interpretations:

What will help you to give your otherwise theoretical faith legs?  Would reading the book of Job as if it were an allegory allow the Sermon on the Mount to change your buying habits?  If so, by all means, read it as an allegory.  Does the thought of Jonah residing in the belly of a large fish inspire you to share your resources with people deprived of access to food and medical attention?  Does inerrancy of the Bible assist you in being good to homeless people?  Does it prompt you to offer free tutoring to underprivileged children?  If so, move deeper in your commitment to the doctrine of inerrancy.  Read as you need to read to be invigorated and encouraged to do what you need to do.  Then believe as if your life depends on it.  Get worked up.  Quickly.  Move your interpretations in the direction of more righteous practice, and don’t look back.  Read as you need to read to be invigorated and encouraged to do justly.  Do what you need to do.  Love your neighbor.  Think what it takes.  This is the text.  Let it mean love.  The rest is commentary.(The Sacredness of Questioning Everything, p. 169-70.)

Now, go read it.

While listening to NPR this afternoon, I heard an interview with Harvey Cox. I was awed by him.  He discussed many things I love all in one interview on the Diane Rehm Show–Education, Religion, and Doubt.  What really struck me was when asked about his own faith.  He described himself as a practicing Christian, but not always a believing one.  Oh how I relate to this.  This sums up many years of struggle.  I love faith, I love church and tradition.  Somehow along the way, my belief has ebbed.

I am currently reading the book An Open Heart by The Dalai Lama.  He is remarkably compassionate.  He teaches that we are all the same.  We all have great potential.

I bought a TNIV when it came out.  Being me, I liked the gender neutral language.  I think “man” meaning mankind is often read to be not women.  I, admittedly not conservative concerning women in the church, am happy to own a copy of this version.  Little did I know it would so quickly disappear.

Texas law mandates Biblical Literacy taught in schools.  What do you think?  No guidelines is the odd part.

I struggle with prayer.  I made a goal in January to revisit prayer in 2009.  So far, like most of those sort of goals, I have failed.  I have have had an ongoing struggle with prayer for many years.  I don’t know how prayer relates to my view of God and how I perceive God’s workings with us.  That said, I am open to the idea that I don’t know how God works.

I read a lot of memoir and this summer brought two remarkable women into my life.  The first is Shirin Ebadi, a Nobel Peace Prize award winner from Iran.  Shirin Ebadi grew up during the Shah’s government and lived in Tehran during his overthrow and the subsequent rule of the Islamic Republic under the ayatollahs.  She became Iran’s first female judge, but following the revolution found it difficult to continue her career, eventually being forced to give up her judgeship as well as her ability to practice law.  Ebadi has worked tirelessly against the oppressive regime of Iran, using her intellect and influence to speak out for human rights and justice, especially in defense of children.  Even facing threats to her life and serving an unjust imprisonment, Ebadi never gave up on Iran.  PMIAB reader dvd has written a reflective account of her book, Iran Awakening.  I highly recommend this inspiring story.

 The second woman I encountered through the pages of her book was Ayaan Hirsi Ali.  Born in Somalia, Hirsi Ali experienced the horrors of revolution and war as a young girl.  She was the daughter of a prominent revolutionary leader and only saw him for brief periods during her childhood.  Her family’s and country’s instability resulted in moves to Saudi Arabia, Ethiopia, and Kenya, a variety of financial and educational barriers, and a strict Muslim culture always in the foreground.  When Ayaan Hirsi Ali was forced into an arranged marriage with an unknown distant cousin, she fled to and received asylum in The Netherlands.  Her book, Infidel, chronicles her story in an intimate way and recounts her budding enthusiasm for learning and Western life.  Hirsi Ali studied and graduated from University in The Netherlands, became a parliamentarian, and devotes her life to protecting and freeing women who are physically and mentally imprisoned in unloving Islamic families.  There are many challenging issues in Hirsi Ali’s story.  One, in particular, for me is her staunch belief that individual rights trump cultural ones.  Because of this driving ideology, she has found a home in more conservative political circles after becoming frustrated with the “multicultural” mindset of the liberal party.  She argues vigorously against special accommodations for conservative Muslim groups and strongly believes Muslims in the West should assimilate into Western culture.  I give her view credence because of her experiences, and they have forced me to reconsider my views on such things as the proposed burqa banning in France.

The third woman I have thought much about this summer is me.  What kind of a woman am I?  These stories call me to stand in solidarity with women worldwide.  I may never be in a position to lose my freedom or suffer at the hands of despotic governments, but as a woman, it is important for me to hold these stories of my sisters close to my heart and respond.  I’m not sure what that looks like from my quiet coffee house and uncensored internet, but I hope this is a start.  I want to start by sharing these stories…and then, perhaps, some more.

What are the minimum criteria for Christianity?

I have a broad definition–follower of the teachings of Christ.

What do you think makes you, or perhaps others a Christian?