Bakhtin for Worship Leaders: The Living Word

This semester I took a course in the language theory of Mikhail Bakhtin.  It was a great class, and there were several points in the class when I thought the things I was reading would work beautifully with theology.  Of course, Bakhtin was living in Soviet Russia, so he rarely references Christianity explicitly, except to talk about the authoritative voice or about “mythical Adam”.  However, I find his theory of language really compelling, and useful for thinking about the ways we interact with the biblical text as an utterance or set of utterances.

I didn’t have time in the semester to reflect on this blog, but now that I have a little space, I want to start articulating and sharing some of those ideas.  So this first post is about Bakhtin’s concept of the Word as a Living thing.

I find this concept especially easy to translate, since we are already accustomed to talking about the Bible as the Living Word of God.  Reading the term in Bakhtin, though, forced me to think about what it gets us to think about a word as alive.

First, for Bakhtin, a living word has its own character and history.  In his words, language cannot be understood as unitary unless it is isolated “from the uninterrupted process of historical becoming that is a characteristic of all living language” (The Dialogic Imagination, p. 288).  This means not only that the meaning of language changes over time, but also that the history of a word matters for its meaning today – that the meanings it has had in the past colors its present meaning.

When this concept is applied to the words at work in the church, it seems especially relevant, as the biblical text is thousands of years old, and many liturgical elements have been used for hundreds of years or more.  The historical and geographical reach of these texts means that there are a wide range of meanings that the stories and words have gathered over those various contexts.  These words carry a weight of meanings that give them richness, but also threaten to hold us down.

Second, a living word is not just a conduit in communication, but an actor.  Words impose their own meanings, histories and intents on a situation.  Bakhtin writes “the strong point of any concrete listener becomes a self-sufficient focus of attention, and one that interferes with the word’s creative work on its referent” (The Dialogic Imagination, p. 282).  In this passage not only does the word do work, but that work is interfered with on the part of a listener – the word is an interloper between speaker and listener, imposing it’s own will on meaning (or referent) that must be compensated for by a strong listener. This then requires extra vigilance on the part of a reader, both to read a text with good intentions, and to listen to others with a spirit of cooperation.

What does it mean if we take the idea of the biblical text as a Living Word seriously?  If we assume that it has actions and intentions separate from and sometimes at odds with those of a writer or reader.  Should we be concerned with the desires of the Word, or of its divine inspirer?  What would it mean to see our reading of the bible as the Word’s creative work?  How is our understanding constrained and enhanced by the history of the words in our translations?

movie families

Sometimes to unwind, Jamie and I watch of movies of varying quality.  Don't judge; most of them are on TV, so we don't pay for them.  However, we have observed some disturbing trends.  The following movies that we have seen recently contain a family game of touch/tackle football:

Dan in Real Life

The Wedding Crashers

Just Married

The following movies that we have seen recently contain a scene where a family bursts into spontaneous song with piano accompaniment:

Must Love Dogs

Dan in Real Life

And more we can’t remember.

Ok, Jamie’s family is athletic, and they never play family football.  They occasionally go sledding and take walks.  My family is musical, but we do not hold spontaneous sing-alongs.  Sure, people burst into song frequently, but we don’t ALL join in.  Occasionally a rehearsal for a church song will end with a jam session.

So the question at hand is this: whose families do these things, and why are they always in movies?  The football thing mostly seems to be a useful plot device to play out sexual tension or a character’s unathleticism.  The music thing is a good chance to demonstrate how good of singers the cast are.  But seriously.  Who does these things?

Also, readers are encouraged to beef up these lists to improve the "trend" argument.

Inequity in Michigan

I was really upset when Jim alerted me to a recent ruling by the Michigan Supreme Court. The ruling interpreted the gay marriage ban that passed in 2004 (which I voted against) to also mean that benefits for gay partners in state-run institutions is also illegal. This is especially hurtful to state universities, who will likely lose top scholars who can get partner benefits in other states.

Regardless of how you feel about the sin-status of gay sex, I think we can all agree that humans deserve to be treated as such. It would be absurd if we ostracized and financially punished individuals in our society for other activites that are prohibited more explicitly and strongly in the Bible. But instead we often have usurers, gluttons and adulterers in civic and religious leadership roles. This is a clear case of discrimination that in the future we will see as repugnant as Jim Crow.

This is an issue of human rights and fairness, and it's embarrassing that in 2008 our society is moving backward instead of toward equality. I urge readers of this blog who still reside in Michigan to take a stand against this injustice.

edit: more discussion on feministing.

Desert Island Discs: 1000 Kisses

I’m done writing for the semester, and just in time. The Desert Island thing is coming back into style. Matt just posted a bunch all at once, and Blake has been talking a big game like he’s going to join in. (Speaking of people who talk a big game, I think Morgan should post another one soon too.)

I came a little late to the Patty Griffin party. Some of my friends were totally pumped to see her play Calvin my first year (I was pumped for the opener: Over the Rhine) but she blew me away, and I bought her then new album 1000 Kisses. It’s ten tracks of beautiful, kids. I’ve been variously obsessed with “Mil Besos,” “Tomorrow Night,” “Rain” and “Making Pies” but to be honest, whenever any of the tracks comes up in Party Shuffle I’m likely to go “I love this song!” And it will be true

Here are some reasons why Patty, and this album, are awesome: Patty’s voice is wrenching, warm and honest. The instrumentation is rootsy, warm and spacious. The writing is lovely – emotional and evocative, but broad enough that you can feel like you relate to it in a variety of situations. For example, “I'm not looking for the rest of your life/ I just want another chance to live” or “I wish you could see the way I see me in my dreams/ the way I laugh there way up high/ the way I look when I fly/ the way I laugh the way I fly.” Other songs, like “Chief” and “Makin’ Pies” draw us into a character with a story. I didn’t know until recently that “Tomorrow Night” was a cover, and had been recorded by Elvis (I know, that’s probably heretical) but I just listened to Elvis’ version on YouTube and Patty’s is better.

This is a good album for a rainstorm, a car trip or an afternoon of reading. Or any other time, really. You should listen to it.

Past Reviews:

Sixpence None the Richer
Transatlanticism
Neon Bible
Details
Why Should the Fire Die
Achtung Baby
Ohio

bragging rights

This morning I was reading this New York Times article about Steve and Barry's. My favorite part is this quotation from Sarah Jessica Parker:

“What has changed,” Ms. Parker said, “is that now people have bragging rights about what they paid. I admired a woman’s pair of pants at a party recently and she said, ‘Fourteen dollars! H & M!’ It really is, among the people I know, part of what they do now.”

NOW? She obviously doesn't know any dutch people. I've been doing that... always.

40 years later

(I wrote this yesterday and then never posted it because of internet issues. Here it is anyway)

I wish that I was less sick and overwhelmed, so I could make a post about the 40th anniversary of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.'s death. Conveniently, I'm working on some copy edits on my recently accepted article about King's last speech. I think that now is a good time to remember Dr King, as some of the same discussions he raised are coming up again - about issues of Justice, race and religion.

I think it's also important for us to remember that 40 years is both a long time ago, and not so long ago. I think some people take a message of reconciliation and hope to mean that the history of inequality and hurt doesn't matter anymore, but that's a history that many people lived and that still affects the opportunities available to people today. I recently had a conversation with my colleague Marcus about some of the discrimination he has experienced in the last few years that made me realize that we still have a long way to go as a society before that history is truly past. Make no mistake: we've come a long way when everyone has at least formal access if not actual access to the best schools and jobs in the nations, and when a black man and a woman are competing for nomination for the highest office in the land. But we also have a long way to go before those people are not derided for those very characteristics, and until technical access means truly equal opportunity.

Desert Island Discs: Sixpence None the Richer

A big turning point for me in musical taste happened when I was in high school. Through some weird connection, my dad got a pre-release version of Sixpence None the Richer’s selftitled album. I fell in love with it. The band quickly replaced my previous favorite musical group: Point of Grace (for the uninitiated, this is your typical CCM highly-produced soccermom pop. You know – with the synth strings and the modulation for the last chorus).

Loving Sixpence opened my musical world to all kinds of new, cool, artsy-folk-pop like my next (and continuing) favorite: Over the Rhine. I also got to see the band a few times in cool venues, like the Calvin FAC and Dimnet Chapel at Hope College before they hit it big with their uncharacteristic pop song, “Kiss Me.” I still wonder what would have happened if they followed up with one of the moodier songs from the album instead of the fluffy cover of “There She Goes” which got added to later editions of the album. In fact, in college I was annoyed that my copy had “There She Goes” tacked on to the end instead of letting the album close with strings and the lyrics “I will not let them ruin me again.”

Anyway, all that was to say that I would love this album forever because of what it got me as a fan of music – expanding my tastes to new and interesting music. But as an album, I think it holds together as quality regardless of my history with it. The combination of Leigh Nash’s sweet soprano vocals with minor chords and driving guitar and string riffs creates a pleasant rockiness, and unexpected moments of beauty and intensity. (Come to think of it, the heavy use of strings probably influenced my love of this album).

Most of the lyrical content on the album is about artistic frustration – it reflects the frustration the band had (and continued to have after their success) with record companies. Although as a teenager I couldn’t relate to the pressures of the CCM market, I could get angst, and some of the songs (“Easy to Ignore” for example) even have romantic angst. I mean, I was 15 when this album came out. The images and musical intensity of these songs still resonate with my older, somewhat less angsty ears.

The album isn’t just a big angst-fest, though, it features complex theological questions (like “The Waiting Room”) and an occasional journey into the fanciful (like “Kiss Me” and “I Can’t Catch You”). It reflects influence from central American poets, not only in “Puedo Escribir” – directly influenced by a Pablo Neruda poem, but also in other lyrical moments and references to the body, like “The Lines of My Earth.” Matt Slocum’s writing about an “artistic womb” and “Flames of knowing kissing me” weirdly resonates with some of the chicana literature I’m reading for class this week, actually. Regardless, the lyrics are rich and complex, with surprising images and pleasing rhythms. All things I still appreciate in a good song. I’m glad this album that mattered so much to me has held up over time.

Past Reviews:

Transatlanticism
Neon Bible
Details
Why Should the Fire Die
Achtung Baby
Ohio

More Than Watchmen Wait for Morning

Today’s church service was filled with more lament than a usual fifth Sunday in lent. This week the state of Georgia was touched by the murder of two college women, one at UNC, and one at Auburn. The father of one of these women is a member of my church. While I have never met Eve Carson, others in our congregation knew her, and were especially yearning for the resurrection of the dead today. It is amazing the ways that God prepares for our needs before we even know them. The lectionary readings were all about God bringing life when there isn’t any hope – Ezekiel and the dry bones, the resurrection of Lazarus, a Romans passage that ends “he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.”

I have my public speaking students report on the news in every class. I forgot to do it in my later class this Friday, so we put it at the end of class instead, and as my student listed these killings among death and war elsewhere in the world, we all felt stunned and saddened, even though our eagerness for spring break made the class open with a sense of excitement. We generally have time for discussion after the news report, and a student remarked that she feels guilty for the way she reacts to these tragedies briefly, and then returns almost immediately to her life – homework, friends, etc. We talked about that difficulty – we all want to be compassionate, sincere people, but if you truly felt every tragedy in the news, you would be paralyzed with sadness. I wish that I could have told them about the gifts of the Christian tradition – that it gives us a way to respond. We lament and hope. We cry out from the depths, like the Psalm 130 writer, but we also say, with him, “My soul waits for the Lord, in his word I hope. My soul waits more than watchmen wait for the morning.” This pattern of tears, prayers and hope are built into the life of the church. Lent is when we wait and pray. But sadness is always around us, demanding that we remember to wait for the Lord.

rhetoric is news

It's unusual for humanities scholarship to make it into the mainstream media, but check out this Slate article about a Rhetoric and Public Affairs piece on Obama's rhetoric.

Coins and God in the US

Last semester I wrote a paper about newspaper coverage of congressional bills adding “under God” to the pledge, declaring “In God We Trust” the national motto and putting it on currency. I noticed that they were carefully vague about the theological meaning of these moves, and embraced any monotheism, and that it was also set up as a clear way to differentiate our Christian Democracy from Atheist Communists. I argued that it was an interesting case of 1950s civil religion, and shed light on how those changes came to be and the relationship of religiosity and patriotism in the mid-50s, and that it offered interesting insights into lay-theories of the rhetoric of material objects.

Today, I read that congress is still worried about the words on coins. In some ways the arguments are the same – our identity as Christian is important, it should show up on material elements of our national culture. The argument now lacks the boogeyman of communist atheists, however, and instead accuses a vague enemy (even the mint itself) of trying to remove or forget God, given the motto’s less prominent position on these new coins. The whole thing still seems a bit silly, and I wonder what drives law-makers to worry about the design of coins instead of, say, people who are sick and can’t afford treatment. There are a couple of possible sources: first the paranoia of the Christian right – anything that feeds into their persecution narrative helps them get attention and money. Also, the presidential race has seen much less attention to typical religious conservative issues. Squabbles like this are an easy way for congressmen like Brownback to get a symbolic victory and pacify their restless constituencies.

Still, it’s weird that this same issue is coming up now, when in the past it appeared after WWII and after the Civil War. What does it mean that these kinds of national identity issues are coming up in the midst of an unpopular foreign war? Are we in some ways imagining ourselves into peace-time by behaving as though the war is already won?

Hat tip: I got this story from Pandagon.