Our Wild Ride Together

One of the things we appreciate most about each other is our mutual love of learning. Before meeting, our intellectual and leisure interests were markedly different with rare surprising areas of overlap. But since the beginnings of our friendship, we’ve gravitated toward sharing aspects of our individual lives that we never would have thought possible. Being able to join and participate in each other’s fantastically nerdy and fun avocations has enlivened both of us. It has been like the transformation of plants in springtime after the first rain showers of the season arrive. Neither of us could have imagined that due to Lindsey’s frequent discussions of engineering design, wondering “How is this made?” would become second nature for Sarah upon encountering objects of all kinds. Likewise, we never would have thought Lindsey might develop an interest in the theological basis of Christian social action movements after engaging in hours of conversation about Sarah’s research. Sometimes, our different personal interests don’t pique each other’s curiosity at all. Lindsey will probably never convince Sarah that American Pickers is anything other than boring, and it’s unlikely that Sarah’s knack for painting or sewing will ever rub off on Lindsey. One never knows for sure, though. A couple of weeks ago, we spent some time on a day trip together reflecting on one of Sarah’s hobbies that, over the past two years, has become a rather unexpected aspect of our shared life.

Having grown up in Eastern Kentucky, Sarah has always been passionate about wildlife. In childhood, Sarah fell in love with all creatures inhabiting the surrounding area. Some of Sarah’s best memories are of sprinting outdoors in bare feet to get a closer look at a snake, turtle, or lizard that Sarah’s dad had found in the backyard…or of catching a red-eyed tree frog to hide in the basket while Sarah’s mom was removing laundry from the clothesline. Every time a member of the family found an orphaned baby animal, Sarah would insist that it not be left to fend for itself. Over the years, Sarah’s family provided care for dozens of reptiles, birds, and small mammals. Sarah still remembers being twelve years old and mourning for a week over the death of a hatchling grouse that was impossible to save. This love for all kinds of wildlife has never become less important. Whether it’s using a broomstick and cat carrier to rescue a young opossum stuck on a fire escape or getting a late start on work after coaxing a reluctant cicada out of the apartment complex early in the morning, a typical day for Sarah almost always involves an interaction with our city’s wildlife.

Very soon after the two of us met, Lindsey learned of Sarah’s interest in wildlife. As we each found out about what brings the other joy, this item arose frequently in conversation. Within the first two weeks of our friendship, Lindsey knew that Sarah had taken a course for wildlife rescue and rehabilitation volunteers, and that eventually Sarah hopes to become more active in supporting the local wildlife center. Lindsey had never been particularly interested in wild animals before meeting Sarah, but long before we decided to pursue a celibate partnership we sensed that Sarah’s enthusiasm about creatures great and small was a beneficial topic for us to discuss together. In no time at all Lindsey was asking Sarah, “How does one safely rescue an injured eagle? Why do migrating songbirds crash into windows of tall buildings? What are you supposed to do if a duck has nested on your roof? Is it possible to save a snake that has swallowed something inedible?”

Later on as we moved in together and began to conceive of ourselves as a family, we had many conversations about the choices we had made individually with regard to donations. We talked about organizations, causes, and ministries that we value, and ultimately came to one mind about which of these should receive support from us jointly. At that point, Sarah introduced Lindsey to the Wildlife Center of Virginia. While not exactly local to us, this wildlife center is one of the nation’s most successful, and a trip there and back from our city can be undertaken within a day. Sarah explained to Lindsey the significance of this organization’s work, and we decided that as a family, we would sponsor two education animals: Buttercup the Black Vulture and Ruby the Red-Tailed Hawk. Something about these two birds resonated deeply with both of us. Sarah has always had a special interest in creatures that most people consider unattractive and nonessential to a healthy ecosystem, so a vulture in particular seemed an appropriate animal to sponsor.

Over the summer this year, we learned that the Wildlife Center of Virginia would be holding some open house dates. Sarah was thrilled at the opportunity to visit over Labor Day weekend and immediately registered the two of us. Lindsey was eager to welcome this new experience, but had some doubts. Even as we headed toward Charlottesville on that Saturday morning, we both knew that Lindsey wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of spending one whole day of a three-day weekend learning about veterinary equipment and animals kept for educational programs. But all that changed as soon as our tour of the facility began. First, everyone present for the open house listened to a presentation about the Center’s history, intake process for animal patients, and rehabilitation approaches. Albus the Eastern Rat Snake introduced himself to us. Under most circumstances, Lindsey is terrified of snakes. But Albus brought a mysterious sense of charm that calmed even the most squirmy, snake-fearing children who were present.

Albus the Rat Snake

Albus the Eastern Rat Snake

Next, we were given the chance to see some of the outdoor enclosures where the Center’s education animals live. A volunteer explained each animal’s story to us and provided some education on the roles they all play in Virginia’s ecosystems. Both of us were excited to meet them, especially Buttercup and Ruby.

Ruby the Red-Tailed Hawk (Unfortunately, we couldn't get a better photo of her.)

Ruby the Red-Tailed Hawk (Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a better photo of her.)

The Center describes Buttercup as a “charismatic black vulture,” and they aren’t kidding. Buttercup is so friendly and imprinted on humans that he rushes to the front of his enclosure anytime visitors come. We took a short video of this.

Any doubts that Lindsey may have had about driving all morning to visit a vulture quickly melted away.

Buttercup the Black Vulture

Buttercup the Black Vulture

Even Sarah was surprised by what we saw inside the Center’s hospital facility, which was the final part of the open house tour. The level of care offered to the animals at this place is superb. Neither of us was aware of how much effort employees and volunteers put into creating and implementing nutrition plans and exercise regimens for each patient. We also developed a new appreciation for the challenge of keeping wild animals wild so they can return to their habitats after receiving needed care. By the time we were ready to leave, Lindsey was saying, “I have to get these people to come to the school where I teach and give a presentation. There are so many engineering design connections I could make with the students!”

Since our visit, Sarah has been thrilled to see Lindsey’s enthusiasm over International Vulture Awareness Day. We celebrated this year by wearing our “Keep Calm and Carrion” t-shirts and sporting our “carrion bags.”

Carrion Bag

Lindsey probably never thought we would say this, but we cherish the ways in which Sarah’s love of wildlife have opened new spaces of enjoyment and interest for Lindsey as well. Vultures and the like are now part of our regular conversations around the dinner table and during long drives. What we’ve learned and continue to learn from this experience is the importance of giving both of us space to be ourselves as fully as possible. This gives us equal freedom to explore new areas of life together, and also freedom to say, “No thanks,” when one of us has an interest that the other feels no connection to whatsoever. It keeps us open to the millions of possibilities that life together affords us. And it makes every day we spend together a truly wild ride.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Why It Matters When White People Don’t Have Black Friends

A reflection by Lindsey

Over the past few weeks I’ve seen my Facebook feed full of reports about happenings in Ferguson, Missouri and other instances of aggressive policing and racial profiling. Even though I have limited time available to read many of the stories, I can’t help but see some of the comments. The lack of empathy I see has startled me. But when I stumbled across findings from the Public Religion Research Institute that reported three quarters of whites don’t have any non-white friends, the tenor of the conversation began to make more sense to me.

People are funny when it comes to how they respond to those who are different from them. I say “funny” because it’s a curious phenomenon. In many ways, we seem to be frozen into egocentric ways of relating to people. As an engineer, I am often amused by the joke, “The world does revolve around me! I choose the coordinate system!” However, I think the joke has more than a grain of truth when we consider our social spheres of interaction and influence. We often choose our friends from people who are most like us. We build our circles of friends from people near us who have things in common with us. The fact that so many white people are able to create such homogenous circles of friends should show us that we’ve somehow managed to create social structures where white people can avoid meaningful and equitable interactions with people of color.

I care about this stuff. I really do. When I was in college, I read Divided by Faith: Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race in America. This book stuck with me like oatmeal can stick to your ribs. I still have vivid memories of how, statistically speaking, white people have a much larger monetary asset base than black people. I think I remember that part so well because I was a college student at the time I read the book, and I was just starting to become independent of my parents financially. It’s a bit sobering to look at more recent statistics. Few things get under my skin like inequality does. While I’m certainly no expert on social justice, I do try to be exceptionally mindful of my expectations and assumptions about people having access to resources.

To be honest, I was surprised when I first saw the headline. I went to college in a university that draws an incredibly diverse population. I haven’t done any kind of formal analysis of my Facebook friends list, so I wouldn’t say that I have an especially diverse friends base. I do try to do my best to shut up and listen when a person who has a different life experience than mine wants to share some of his or her story with me. Some things I’ve learned, time and time again from virtually all my friends, are that context matters, stereotypes hide any number of important observations, and it’s not that hard to look at how society has structures that perpetuate inequalities. [Nicked and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America is another book that really drove home the latter point.]

When I think about the importance of knowing someone, I consider the stories told around increasing acceptance of LGBT people. Many straight people have had to stop and reflect on their views surrounding LGBT issues after finding out that a co-worker, friend, or child has come out as LGBT. It’s a lot harder to think without empathy about LGBT related topics when you start associating them with real people that you actually know.

Let me be extremely clear: I do not believe that we should equate the experiences of LGBT people with the experiences of people of color. Looking at the headline that 75% of white Americans do not have any non-white friends, I wondered about the effects of social organization. It’s a lot easier to make claims that like, “Racial profiling is simply police doing their job,” if you’ve never gone out shopping with a black friend. It’s a lot easier to doubt that virtually every black household briefs its children about what they need to do if they are stopped by the police if you’ve never sat around the dinner table with a black family. It’s a lot easier to suggest that jobs go to the highest qualified person if you’ve never known a person who has “white-washed” his or her resume. I decided to talk about the LGBT community because I know many white people who have discovered that they actually have a good number of LGBT friends unknowingly. When people have LGBT friends, they tend to reconsider their views about social problems affecting the LGBT population. However, I’m afraid that it’s much easier for those who are straight to find themselves in friendship with those who are LGBT than it is for white people to find themselves in friendship with people of color. Part of the reason why I think white people have comparatively homogenous circles of friends is that we tend to socialize in already segregated environments. Churches are often the worst place to try to diversify one’s friends base; Divided by Faith is so named because 11:00 AM on Sunday morning is often the most segregated hour of the week.

Relationships matter. Our relationships with one another make us human. When we have relationships with people who are different from us, we learn to see our commonalities as people as well as our salient differences that set us apart as individuals. We develop empathy skills that allow us to hear stories that challenge us to see the many faces of oppressive social structures. We tune our abilities to say, “That’s not fair!” and work for positive changes.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Living amidst Theological Tensions in a Faith Community

We’re going to be addressing a reader’s question in today’s post. A reader asked us:

How do you reconcile the fact that, if you remain in a conservative tradition, you will likely always be surrounded by a church body made up of people who disagree with you?

This reader zoomed in on how LGBT issues have a way of dividing Christian congregations. However, as we thought about our response to this question, we decided to zoom out and answer the question more generally.

The natural first question is, what makes a Christian tradition a “conservative” tradition? From where we sit, there can be an uneasy alliance between blindly accepting certain norms and allowing oneself to be shaped by the wisdom contained in a Christian tradition. Every Christian tradition has a theological core that gives it form and structure. When traditions keep this theological core at the front and center, we generally encourage people to listen to what is being said much more closely.

The theological core of a Christian tradition acts as a spine. The human spine not only gives the body form and structure, but it also permits a person to move. Nerves activate muscles where ligaments pull to move the bones. Without the neuromuscular structure, the skeleton does nothing. When Christians ask questions of, “How does this Christian tradition guide my life given my unique circumstances?” they act as nerve cells in the system. Christians sense when their tradition should be able to offer them guidance. That these questions exist is a good thing. If the tradition guides the response, then the person seeking answers should be able to connect back with the theological core. Our questions should guide us towards Christ. To say it another way, questions should help us grow in our faith. As children of the Church, we’re always growing.

Sometimes, theological tension acts as a muscle pair. Living a Christian life frequently requires finding the narrow way of Christ. “Conservative/progressive” language is one way of to describing this tension in some congregations. Often, conservative approaches seek to preserve what is while progressive approaches want to imagine what can be. Every Christian lives amidst this tension when imagining the possibilities for his or her own life while trying to conform to the likeness of Christ. Therefore, the two of us welcome it when people disagree with us based on their best understandings of our tradition’s theological core, especially when they remember that we are also children of God who are worthy of respect. Theological tension can remind us to sit longer with God to discern the way rather than jump headlong into assuming that God is always saying “Yes” or “No” to everything we want to do.

At other times, theological tension occurs when people are unwilling to consider some questions in the first place. If Christians dismiss questions outright, they also dismiss the possibility that those asking the questions are authentically seeking Christ. Additionally, sometimes people fail to reference the theological core of their Christian traditions. It can be all too easy to let a soundbite like, “Well, the Bible clearly says…” or “The Church has always taught…” prevent deep engagement with how a Christian tradition could guide a person through periods of difficult discernment. This kind of theological tension gets old quickly, especially if Christians haven’t really thought about the implications of what they are saying. We can certainly be compassionate because we know that in theological conversations, we’ve made our own ignorant comments at times and likely will again in the future. However, we hope that people would be open to thinking about how Christ welcomes all sorts of questions and about how core theological concepts can provide helpful guidance in diverse situations.

For our part, we choose congregations that are well connected with the theological core of our Christian tradition. We love being in congregations that teach people how to incorporate this theological core into daily life. Relative to our own vocation, we do not believe that we have all the answers. We have no interest in policing everyone’s orthodoxy or inciting that some Christian traditions need to “get with the times.” We believe that people’s theological beliefs matter; as Christians, we’ve definitely thought about what theological issues are most important for Christians to hold as common beliefs. Nonetheless, we know that different people are going to come to different theological conclusions across a wide range of topics. We respect other Christians who are making a good faith effort to connect with the core of their theological traditions. And we recognize that every person is capable of making mistakes as we seek help living into the fullness of what God has called us to. It’s easier to deal with disagreement when you can appreciate the earnest efforts of everyone present.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Saturday Symposium: Unappreciated Parts of God’s Creation

Good afternoon, readers. We’re getting our post out a bit late today. Thanks for your patience, and as always, for your support and engagement in lively conversation.

Here’s today’s Saturday Symposium question:

How this works: It’s very simple. We ask a multi-part question related to a topic we’ve blogged about during the past week or are considering blogging about in the near future, and you, our readers, share your responses in the comments section. Feel free to be open, reflective, and vulnerable…and to challenge us. But as always, be mindful of the comment policy that ends each of our posts. Usually, we respond fairly quickly to each comment, but in order to give you time to think, come back, add more later if you want, and discuss with other readers, we will wait until after Monday to respond to comments on Saturday Symposium questions.

This week’s Saturday Symposium question: Today is a day that is very special to us: International Vulture Awareness Day. We learned about today from our favorite vulture, Buttercup — an education bird we sponsor at the Virginia Wildlife Center. Last week, we had the privilege of meeting Buttercup at an open house. He’s a very charismatic and lovable bird. Nonetheless, meeting him reminded us of how many parts of God’s creation go unappreciated. We can especially relate to this as LGBT Christians. Next week, we’re going to write a post about our adventure visiting the wildlife center, and for today’s question we ask you: what parts of God’s creation do you think are most unappreciated? Why are they unappreciated? What can be done to encourage greater respect and care for these parts of creation? (And if you feel so inclined, you can also comment about vultures specifically 🙂 ).

We look forward to reading your responses. If you’re concerned about having your comment publicly associated with your name, please consider using the Contact Us page to submit your comment. We can post it under a pseudonym (i.e. John says, “your comment”) or summarize your comment in our own words (i.e. One person observed…). Participating in this kind of public dialogue can be risky, and we want to do what we can to protect you even if that means we preserve your anonymity. Have a wonderful weekend!

Blessings,

Sarah and Lindsey

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

 

Building a Life Together: Imagining the Possibilities

As we interact with more and more people both online and in person, we encounter new challenges that compel us to reflect on aspects of our life together in ways we have not yet shared on the blog. We’ve seen how others with different perspectives react to us and our manner of living our faith and sexuality, and a common thread we’ve noticed is that people often learn of our circumstances and question how likely we are to continue living as a celibate couple 5, 10, 25, 50 years down the road. Both here and in other places on the internet, we’ve seen it suggested that in all likelihood, we’ll either give up on celibacy at some point or give up on our dream of a future together. Perhaps these speculations are fueled by the human tendency to skepticism over anything that deviates from social and cultural norms, but we have to wonder if part of the issue is that we haven’t devoted much time yet to sharing what we envision for the future of our community of two. Over the past few weeks as we’ve been looking back over posts from eight or nine months ago, we’ve realized that most of our posts specifically related to celibacy focus on how we got to where we are now rather than where we see God leading us. In today’s post, we want to share with our readers five possibilities we imagine for our future as a celibate couple. Some of these are directions where we are confident that God is leading us. Others are fuzzy, distant possibilities that will require years more of prayer, guidance from our spiritual fathers, and candid conversations with those we love and trust most.

When thinking about life together over the long haul, we keep returning to our shared spiritual life and how much effort it takes from both of us to ensure that we are living into this aspect of celibacy. We came to our current Christian tradition from very different religious backgrounds. It has been an adventure to watch and learn from how God shows us that our distinct perspectives on spiritual matters complement each other. Nevertheless, we constantly hope that God continues to develop in us a truly shared spirituality. In some ways, it seems like we’ve experienced some first fruits in surprising places. We welcome every way God might draw us closer to Christ through continuing to merge our various spiritual practices, and we believe firmly that God is calling us into a deeper, more unified spiritual life together as our relationship with each other continues to grow.

We also have great hopes that God will continue to show us more about our vocations as teachers. Though we work in vastly different fields (Sarah in theology and Lindsey in engineering education), we’ve already seen bits of evidence that God is calling us to strengthen each other in our commitments to helping students get the most meaningful and intellectually challenging educational experiences possible. Sarah’s experience of teaching as been that it comes naturally and is a great joy, even amidst occasional frustrations. Until getting to know Sarah, Lindsey’s experience of teaching was anxiety provoking and sometimes came with significant dread. As we’ve begun sharing a household, we’ve found that both of us have uncovered important details about our vocations as teachers. Sarah has inspired Lindsey to take greater interest in the needs of students, and to seek teaching opportunities that are the right fit emotionally even if not affiliated with more prestigious educational institutions. For the first time, Lindsey has begun to see teaching as a clear part of Lindsey’s vocation. Lindsey has challenged Sarah to empathize more with students who have little interest in theology but are taking a course in this field for a university requirement — particularly students majoring in STEM fields. As a result, Sarah is developing a better sense of how to reach students who enter introductory theology classes with apathy. Every term we’re both teaching, we notice more examples like these. If God intends to use both of us as educators, we pray that he will continue to open up new insights to us within the context of our relationship.

All our regular readers know by this point that one of our primary goals in blogging is to offer support to other lay people like us who are discerning the possibility of making a commitment to celibacy — particularly those who are LGBTQ and/or pursuing celibate partnerships. So many people have contacted us with questions about their own life situations. Each time we receive this sort of email, we devote some time to praying for that person and asking God to help us respond in the most helpful manner. As this happens, we find ourselves hoping for additional opportunities to help other lay people who are considering living some non-monastic form of celibacy. Neither of us knows much about legal matters, but we’re fortunate to have a friend at our church who is knowledgeable in this area and is willing to guide us to the best resources for ensuring that we have non-marital legal protections. Once we learn more about the process of managing our legal relationships to each other, we sense that God might be calling us to provide help and support for other couples like us as they sort these and other matters for themselves.

Though we try to write in an accessible, reflective style on the blog, we also have an interest in making a more academic contribution to conversations about lay celibacy. Our own Christian tradition has a long history of celibate vocations, but nearly every resource we’ve encountered from within our own tradition discusses celibacy solely within the context of monasticism. Sarah is especially interested in taking on future academic writing projects that explore the question, “What would a theology of non-monastic, lay celibacy look like in our Christian tradition?” Both of us have seriously considered creating an online repository of documents and other media related to celibacy that represents a plethora of Christian denominations. We’ve been contacted by untold numbers of people whose denominations say nothing whatsoever about celibacy (or so it appears), or have only negative things to say about the practice of celibacy. If God opens the door for us to provide these kinds of resources to the people who need and desire them most, we would consider it a great honor to fill that role.

Since we first began making plans for sharing a household and living together as a family, we’ve also been discussing how to broaden the scope of our practice of hospitality. Though we both consider our relationship with each other the most meaningful relationship in our lives next to God and the saints, we would welcome the expansion of our two-person community. As we’ve prayed about how God might be calling us to extend our family, we’ve both felt inspiration to (eventually) move into a larger home and offer the unused bedrooms to people who are recovering from addictions and experiencing difficulty reintegrating into work/school after taking time off to focus on getting healthy. We want to offer a safe space where those in recovery can get their needs met for basic resources and emotional support and stay for as long as necessary. Because of Sarah’s experience with different addictions, this issue is near and dear to our hearts. Very few people outside the recovery community realize how few opportunities for this kind of support exist in the “real world” outside of treatment centers and group meetings. There is a great need for resources to bridge that gap. For the past several months, the two of us have felt a clear sense of call to work toward this goal in future years when we are more financially established.

Of all five items discussed in our post today, the next is certainly the fuzziest, most undeveloped possibility for our future as a celibate couple. Sarah has mentioned before that one of the most difficult aspects of celibacy for Sarah is the fact that celibates do not get to become mothers and fathers, at least in the biological sense. Sarah has devoted and continues to devote considerable time to reflecting on how best to direct the desire for motherhood. While Lindsey has never felt any inclination toward parenthood, the two of us occasionally discuss the possibility of taking in foster children and what that would mean for the celibate vocation we live together. In an ideal world, there would be no need for foster care. In an almost-but-not-quite-ideal world, there would be enough interested couples living marital vocations that no need would exist for celibates like us to be foster parents. But we don’t live in an ideal world or even close, and there are so many children who will never know what it is like to be loved by a parental figure. There are kids who will spend their entire lives in group homes and abusive foster care situations because there are so few good potential foster parents. Then, there are some kids who can’t be placed because available foster families aren’t able/willing to manage disabilities, behavioral problems, mental health diagnoses, etc. We don’t plan on pursuing this anytime in the near future as it is a decision that would require long and serious discernment, but if God should call us to provide an unloved, uncared for child with a Christian home, basic needs, a solid education, and two very loving and firm adults, we pray that we’ll be prepared to answer that call.

These examples are mere glimpses into the hopes and dreams we have for our future as a team, a partnership, and a family. The possibilities are both exciting and frightening, and we hope that the right decisions on all of them will become clearer as we grow in greater love for God and each other. We have a mutual feeling that this isn’t the last time we’ll be addressing this topic.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.