Here is my first installment: The Park

“Maybe that could have been us,” he said with great distance in his tone.
Following his gaze to the little boy riding the red tricycle, flanked by smiling parents, she shrugged. “If we were two different people, I suppose.”
“Or at a different time…”
She broke her gaze from the family, tilting her head towards him. “Time was never the problem though…”
He shook his head. “I guess not. Would that have made you happier, you think?”
“A baby?”
A nod.
Suddenly, the park seemed to shrink to the size of a thimble, cramming every coulda, woulda, shoulda in with them.
“Me?”
His face fell as he broke the long stare. “Us.”
“Impossible to say. Would it have made you happier?”
“Me?” he said, now looking long past the child and his parents.
“Us,” she relented.
Fifteen years locked eyes with her once more. “I…I don’t…”
“Yeah,” she said in the airiness of her exhale.
He would have plastered joy on his face at a positive pregnancy test, she was sure. He would have checked out ten books from the library, drawn up plans for a nursery, and signed them up for birthing classes. She could almost feel his hand around hers as she thought of laboring their theoretical baby into the world, wiping her head with a towel as she sweat and cried.
But they both knew that’s where it would end. He had to know it, anyway, she hoped. He was all planinng and no execution. Dreams that never quite made their way into reality. It was a great fortune that when they met neither of them had wanted children, and that it had stayed that way for both of them this whole time. No one had a change of heart. That was never the problem.

There hadn’t been any problems until the last year or two, he thought, watching her watch the breeze through the trees. It felt like all of a sudden that she started looking at him differently. Distantly. He’d thought it was because she’d had changed her mind about having a family, now wanting one. He was wrong, though. Bringing that up led to a full forty-eight hour fight, him being accused of going for low-hanging fruit and not paying attention to a damn thing.
She was right. It was low-hanging and, frankly, imaginary fruit. She wasn’t the only one who’d slipped away from their connection. He’d intentionally taken on extra projects at work, letting the job eat away hours with her. Sure, she’d done the same thing, he knew, but he never asked about it. Just as she hadn’t.

By the time she’d accused him of an affair, she’d known it was over. She’d had no real reason to suspect it aside from his longer hours at work, of which she was also guilty and he’d said nothing. That was really why she’d brought it up. It was too easy of a shot and didn’t require a bit of calculation. How boring—a man having an affair? Please. That wasn’t him. It wasn’t them.
Pulling her eyes down from the tree line she watched him some more. Tried to find the young man of twenty he’d been when they first met, maybe somewhere in his eyes. She didn’t want a twenty-year-old any more than she wanted to be twenty again. But youthful optimism was a hell of a drug, and she longed for a hit.
“It’s not about a baby,” she said, depressurizing them out of the thimble. “There’s just a…I don’t know… an obscure kind of…sorrow.”
He was quiet for a moment before turning his face toward her with curiosity. “An obscure kind of sorrow.”
She nodded.
“Where’d you hear that?”
A shrug. “Nowhere. I don’t know. It’s just…what it is, right? This thing we can feel but can’t really, like, get a grasp on.”
“Hm.” He made the thoughtful noise through his nose, not fully committing to it.

“Sorrow,” he repeated, trying to taste the word. “What does sorrow mean?”
Her brow furrowed. “What, like a definition?”
He nodded.
She tapped on her phone. “A feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or misfortune...”
“What are the synonyms?” He leaned closer to read along.
A deep breath later a smattering of words punctuated her screen.
She read aloud, “Agony, misery, pain, anguish…”
“Lamenting, affliction, woe,” he continued.
“Woe,” she repeated, her mouth turning up as she chuckled just inside her chest. “That’s dramatic.”
“Dolor,” he said with a hint of excitement, raising his eyebrows. “How about that one?”

“Not so obscure, I guess,” she said, sliding her phone back in the pocket of the fleece that had once been his.
“No,” he agreed. “But you weren’t saying the word was obscure, but that you were experiencing it in an obscure, out of full view way, right?”
“Right.” She stood, brushing the back of her pants. “Ready?”
Planting his hands on his knees with a deep breath, he rose to his full height, half a head taller than her. “Ready.”
They strolled toward the sunset at the edge of the park, turning right at the gate. It was only three blocks to home, and a block in he reached for her hand. She eyed it for two paces, then looked up at him. He gave a little shrug, pushing his hand forward another inch in the space between them. She shrugged back, offering a half grin—a half-hearted grin—before looking back at the littered sidewalk and letting her hand fall into his.
“Want to order Thai take out?” he asked once they reached their building.
“Sure, sounds good.”
“But from the place on fifth. The one on Main doesn’t have—”
“The right spring rolls,” she interrupted, holding the door open.
“Right. Thanks,” he said, walking through the door.
She stood there for the fullness of a moment, feeling a kind of obscure sorrow when he had to drop his hand to do so.'

Until next time,

andrea

Why it matters, and why it doesn’t, when we’re in Christ

This post is not a treatise on economics and government and how and why they intersect, nor is it a full study on either capitalism or socialism and how and why they might intersect in a given society. What I hope to do here is set a stage of the world we live in, to give us some common ground on which to tread as we move forward in what it means to give as a Christian. It is not a treatise, and it is nowhere near comprehensive. I’m going to share the opinions of a couple of theologians on the matter, tie in some real-world examples, and build upon a “third way,” hinted at by the authors I researched for this piece.

(As this is not an academic journal article, unless otherwise noted, the book I’m quoting from is, An Introduction to Biblical Ethics: Walking in the Way of Wisdom, written by Robertson McQuilkin and Paul Copan)

At the outset, I want to ensure readers are not confusing or conflating socialism with communism.

Socialism, Britannica offers, is, “The first is a transitional system in which the working class controls the government and economy yet still pays people according to how long, hard, or well they work. Capitalism and private property exist, though to a limited degree.” Socialism, therefore, is a framework and school of thought that can, and often does lead to communism. Though, like democracy, communism itself is lived out in different ways and, in the United States, communism is a term wielded in the sociopolitical sphere as an insult toward people that may or may not have anything to actually do with communism as political-economic system.

For the sake of this piece, we will hold closely to the idea of socialism in its original form, and not that of social media, or as a slur of sorts.

Capitalism, the economic system that rules the United States, centers around wealth creation and accumulation. Private individuals and corporations are encouraged to and rewarded for investments, ownership of property and business. Wealth is managed at the individual and corporate level and, theoretically, not the government. What’s interesting to note, and I will return to in a later post regarding poverty in society, McQuilkin and Copan point out, “Advocates of capitalism seem to dominate American evangelical thought; advocates of socialism dominate evangelical thought in most of the rest of the world…” (p. 463).

Advocates of socialism call out the competitive and individualistic tendencies for capitalism to thrive, for example, often at grave social and environmental cost as larger corporations dominate.

McQuilkin points out writers who contend that capitalism promotes money as the benchmark by which a society comes to judge and be judged (464). In order to escape this judgment, or triumph in such a system, one must hoard wealth, which goes directly against biblical principles, and one must often exploit to continue to hoard wealth, another anti-biblical stance. He ponders, then, if socialism might be a better choice, an answer to the ills of capitalism.

To turn to Scripture, as Christians must as our filter through which to view the world and organize our behavior, the answer isn’t so cut and dry, McQuilkin posits, and I agree. He writes, “The advocate of a free market economic system emphasizes freedom and the right to private property, while those who promote a controlled market economy for the welfare of all citizens emphasize justice, fairness, and equality…Yet neither economic freedom or equality is very pronounced in Scripture.” (P. 465).

Economic freedom in a capitalist system paves the way for “getting” and “more” and “even more.” Yet, Scripture yields (as noted in the first post in this series) a great deal of real estate to the commands of helping the needy. McQuilkin asks, “Whose freedom is more violated—a wealthy person prohibited from becoming more wealthy…or a poor person who is trapped in poverty?” (p. 465).

Aside from rights and freedoms here, we, as Christians, must focus on our obedience to commands from God, and there is no grey area about how God feels about those who accumulate wealth while others starve at their feet. I align most here with McQuilkin. Even if we find that, economically and socially, capitalism might make the most sense and offer overall more freedoms, that does not, for the Christian, authorize unlimited wealth accumulation for our own storehouses. Justice and mercy should always be at the forefront of a Christian’s mind.

How might that look, however, if one were to lay stake in the camp that suggests capitalism isn’t only fine, but is the best system in which to handle economic injustices and personal freedoms? Copan offers insight here, some of which I agree with and some I don’t.

Copan begins his argument by referencing the United Nation’s “State of the Future” from 2007, which highlights data that health, education, and wealth have all increased in nations under capitalism, where income per person has risen steadily in statistically every scenario (466). The counter is that socialist governments tend to end up “bloated” (467) and mismanaged . He argues that capitalism provides more opportunity to both help the poor and help the poor help themselves. This is why, he points out, that aid organizations that focus on market assets like entrepreneurship and free enterprise have a greater success rate for long term financial stability for those they help than organizations that primarily “hand out” (467-468).

On these points I am in agreement with Copan, and you can find the rest of his thoughts on socialism, some which I find weakly sussed out, in the book. But the agreement I have with him is shared by McQuilkin as they discuss the ultimate questions: How are Christians to respond to the poor? Guess what? It doesn’t matter what economic or political system a Christian find themselves in—the answer is the same: Regardless of the political and economic system a Christian finds themselves living in and/or under, they are to remain first obedient to the Word of God, which provides clear and indisputable guidance around wealth, stewarding gifts, and charity of all kinds to the less fortunate, the poor, the disabled, and the immigrant among us.

For Christians to envelop themselves in to arguments about systems of government and economics for the sake of the poor, as we’ve seen this year with DOGE and the lengthy government shutdown and its ramifications, is to miss the point. Our first job is to extend and help, before, during, and after governments figure out who and how they’ll be helping. It’s true that it used to be the case that most thrift stores and soup kitchens in the United States were operated by churches. Adoption agencies too, for that matter. That’s not the case anymore, and both a decline in church attendance and a worship of wealth among Christians are to blame for a great deal of that.

Does this mean, Christian, that you are to take a vow of poverty and just “hand your money away,” to everyone else. Not exactly, but not exactly no, either. I’ll cover that in my next installment as I delve deeper into how Christians must conduct themselves in a society that is riddled with poverty.

Until next time,

andrea

A few passages I’ve noted include: Luke 3:11, Psalms 37:21, 2 Corinthians 9:6, Matthew 6: 19-21, Romans 12:13, james 2:15-16, and Nehemiah 8:10. This only scrapes the surface of how we, as children of God, are to give, both to those in our community of faith and those outside.

While the concept of giving can seem so clear and obvious, how we give as Christians is too often informed by culture over Scripture. Yes, Scripture meets us in our given cultures, but it transcends culture. Too often Western Christians are left with a watered-down faith and outlook as they misread scripture with Western eyes.

Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes is one of a handful of books from my time in graduate school that I return to again and again. Bookshelves the length of the short wall in my office are to my left, and as I wrote the last sentence I turned my head, my eyes landing right on the grey spine bearing the title. I reach for it so often, muscle memory knows exactly where to pluck it from. While I will likely explore the meat of this book in a later post or later series, I want to give a taste of what’s to come with a question posed on page 111, in regards to the preceding chapter on individualism vs. collectivism as it relates to societies. E. Randolph Richards asks, “How Christian is the concept of self-reliance?”

How Christian, indeed.

It can be all too easy to look around and see churches or Christian organizations advocating for a hearty “bootstraps” approach to giving, and in another direction one might find reckless and mismanaged organizations which end up helping no one. However, the drumbeat of the American Dream is a concept of self-reliance that causes a lot of plotholes, but moreover, isn’t biblical. I’m not suggesting there isn’t any self in daily life, or that we have no control over our circumstances, but Scripture asks us to look beyond that, Christian. Not to cast it aside, but look above and beyond.

In the wake of the current government shutdown (which might end today) and various responses all over the political spectrum, I will be publishing a series of blog posts about the Christian response to need. A series on the Christian response to politics might also be warranted, but I’d rather cut right to the more pressing issue: those in need are in our midst and we, as Christians, have a biblical, God-directed obligation to help. At all times, in all seasons, under every government, until Jesus returns. Period.

In preparation for this series, I returned to another graduate school book, a tome titled, “An Introduction to Biblical Ethics: Walking in the Way of Wisdom,” by Robertson McQuilkin and Paul Copan. I have other works by Copan, and trust his scholarship, and this particular book is full of great scholarship on many topics, by way of introduction, as the title suggests.

I’ll be quoting this work a bit coming posts, as well as Catholic scholars and other notable Christians as I try to help us find a “third way” of sorts to help those in need. Not the ways of the government, or the world, or even our given culture, but in the ways of Christ.

I’d love to write a whole scholarly article on the topic now, but I want to be realistic, and keep these posts to digestible chunks that folks can really consider and discuss, if they so choose. I’m not trying to be the Atlantic, though I appreciate what they do in terms of long-form content. But for the sake of my executive function, and yours, I’ll keep it a little tighter. Full transparency, though, this will be the shortest post in the series.

Tune in tomorrow for what I hope will be the broadest, umbrella-like post in the series: Capitalism, Socialism, Christ.

Until next time,

andrea

photo credit: freeimages.com/victomar

I’ll write about this more extensively in the future, but teenagers really can be the best. The absolute crown jewel of those long, hard infant-toddler-elementary years. Middle school is hell, and is a topic unto itself.

While it has been longer than I like admitting since I published, in the past ten years I’ve written tons. Gobs. Heaps. Volumes. Three whole, unfinished drafts of the fourth installment of Jesus Freaks, two-and-a-half years of graduate theology writing (many, many books worth), what feels like a million social media posts and comments, countless emails, probably several million text messages, and three-quarters of a stand alone novel I cannot WAIT to complete.

All this to say, I have been writing. I need to remind myself of that, because if I look only at my published work it would suggest a decade without words, and I’m fairly certain that would have killed me by now. However, creativity is part of my therapeutic process, and as I’m endeavoring on a post traumatic growth group with my therapist and a few other women, I knew I needed to just put my butt in my chair and write. To feel narrative fiction or non-fiction tumble from my fingertips, words tripping over one another to get out. To hear the clack of the keyboard that massages a part of my brain only reached by such clacking. To connect with a part of myself that has felt cast aside, banished by the trauma and upset over the last few years.

I might write about what brought me to the aforementioned post traumatic growth group at some point, but I’ve reached the conclusion that, at least this time, with this trauma, I can’t write myself out of it by writing about it. I need to write around and alongside it. It’s captured too much of my attention for too long.

My goal now is to write something here every day. (Maybe a couple times a day? Who’s to say?). It might be something that’s a paragraph or two—something that may have otherwise counted as a Facebook status update, or it could be longer. Like this, or even longer. Probably longer because I’m wordy. While the name is Curious Theologian, you’ll either be bummed or relieved to know that this will not only be about theology, though that will seep in and sometimes be the focal point. I am curious. I am technically a theologian with an M.Div. So, here we find ourselves.

Just about everything on here will be free to read, though paid content will slide in from time to time. In advance, I thank everyone who will buy those articles.

Until next time,

andrea