Redistribution of Capital

I'm still a newbie in the blogging world and am not hip to how one is supposed to approach this, but I'm assuming not all blogs spew out fully formed thoughts, but rather, they're a place where one can toss out a thought and play with it...and maybe get feedback from others on whether the thoughts work for them or not. (I'm not sure if the comment thingy is working. I've changed the settings a few times and tested it and got the comment screen, so I'll hope it's there this time.)

So anyway, I continue to read Church on the Margins for class and had a thought last night that was inspired by the ongoing bickering of the two presidential candidates. It has to do with the spreading around of wealth and all that. It seems to me that a lot of the political/religious capital here in the good ol' US of A was taken in a series of power grabs that left a bunch of people in the theological dust -- if you weren't a Calvinist in New England in the 1600s to claim your stake, you were...um...burned at the stake, hanged or otherwise dealt with. While burning heretics at the stake has gone somewhat out of fashion, the bullying and spiritual killing continues today through groups with seemingly innocuous-sounding names like "Focus on the Family" and such.

These folks, the so-called religious right, have amassed entirely too much capital as far as I'm concerned, and it's built on a house of cards. Like the financial groups who dealt in subprime loans, sometimes with a 30 to 1 debt to asset ratio, many of these religious organizations are building their empire on little understood tenets that will not be able to stand up to the scrutiny of concerned citizens who decide to stop taking them at face value and really dig into what they're about.

While I'm way too lazy to organize a revolution (heck, I can't even organize a kegger without a nap), I'd like to propose a redistribution of the wealth. I'd like to find a way that we could grab some of that ill-gotten religious capital from what's truly a minority (a very vocal and frightening minority) and redistribute the wealth. I'm not sure how one would get the ball rolling, but if someone can pull it off, the first round's on me.

What does it mean to be "in community"?

I'm reading a book for class, The Church on the Margins: Living Christian Community, by Mary Sawyer. While I haven't gotten too far in it yet, I did have a bit of an insight about myself. I've often been uncomfortable with the word community. It seems to be a fairly meaningless word that has taken on the form of whomever is using it, and everyone in the room nods her head in a knowing way, as if they're somehow part of this secret community. I think it's more that no one wants to feel left out and acts as if she knows what community's all about.

I know others really embrace the word community. Bob, while not a Christian, is huge on community. He has so often used the language of "we" when describing some activity he's doing that I've had to ask him who "we" is.

I think part of my problem is that for most of my adult life, I've defined who I am by who I'm not: No, I'm not a member of [fill-in-the-name-of-mainline-protestant-religion here]. I wouldn't want to associate with them because they a) marginalize women b) marginalize my GLBT brothers and sisters c) the marginalize the immigrant d) they marginalize, as Sawyer puts it, the "other" (whatever population it is) or e) all of the above. In addition, I could have a beef with a theological stance on what the divinity of Christ means, the role of a triune God, etc. etc. ETC.

Yes, I'm the kid throws a hissy fit and leaves the "community" rather than, as a dear cousin has chosen within the smothering bounds of her conservative denomination, to "fight from within." Now I'm finding that if you've spent most of your life defining who you are by who you're not, it's extremely difficult to change. In a sense, I have become one of "them" -- I've become stuck in my progressive-liberal ways and have issue being in company of "the other." I'm also finding that I frequently irritate myself. Unfortunately, i can throw as many hissy fits as I want, but I can't leave me. So, after nearly four decades, I'm learning what a lot of people grew up knowing--tolerance begins with tolerating oneself. If you can't be open to your own changing viewpoint, how in God's name can you be tolerant of others?

So, I find it curious that my first foray into learning what it means to be "in community" in Christianity, with my non-Christian family (in the larger meaning), in my ecumenical school, in the workplace or in the world means that I first need to be in community with myself. I need to stop marginalizing myself from myself.

Easier said than done.