Book Write-Up: The 5 Secrets of Social Success with Biblical Principles

Dr. Lina W. Liken with Cali Blalock.  The 5 Secrets to Social Success with Biblical Principles.  Bloomington: Westbow Press, 2014.  See here to buy the book.

As a person with Asperger’s Syndrome, I can use guidance on how to interact with people.  So can a lot of people, even those who are not on the autism spectrum.  Many young people today are so used to texting and Facebook, that they may need guidance on how to interact face-to-face.  As one of the book’s recommenders said, there are people with substance abuse problems who may need help with social interaction.

The 5 Secrets to Social Success with Biblical Principles offers some good advice.  It talks about eye contact and why it is important.  It also talks about the importance of listening to others.  It offers biblical prooftexts, some of which are relevant, and some of which are connected rather tenuously with the point at hand.

I was rather ambivalent about some of its advice.  For example, it says that, if we offend someone else in a disagreement, we should say to the person that we are sorry that we hurt his or her feelings.  I doubt that the other person would receive that very well.  The offended person may think that we are treating him or her as a little kid, or that we are implying that he or she is the one with the problem.  Maybe a better thing to say would be: “I am sorry if I said what I said in an offensive manner.”  At least the book got me thinking about this issue and shed light on where I may have gone wrong in the past.

The book offered advice on what is not good material for conversation, and there is wisdom in what it said.  Granted, gossip can create bonds between people, but there is a downside to it.  Not only is it unloving, but what will happen if the person you’re talking about overhears your gossip, or somehow learns about it?
The book could have offered more advice, however, on how to have an appropriate conversation.  What is acceptable humor to use?  What are some good ice-breakers?

The book did present two examples of conversation, one that contains idle talk, and the other which exemplifies what the book is advocating.  The former conversation looked realistic to me.  The latter conversation, in which people were formally quoting Bible verses to each other, did not so much.  At the same time, the latter conversation did make a good point: that maybe we should think of ways to help others as opposed to shredding them behind their backs.

The book may be helpful in a small-group setting.  There, people can get into the specifics of what to do and what not to do.  By itself, the book makes good points, but it is inadequate.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book through BookLook Bloggers, in exchange for an honest review.

Firefly, Jaynestown, and Grace

I’ve been watching the TV series Firefly, which was on for one season in 2002-2003.  It is science fiction.  Although it was only on for one season (plus a movie was made to wrap up the story), it gained a cult following.  I thought that the pilot was boring, but I have been enjoying the episodes after that.  It is light and funny.  I particularly like Shepherd Book, the preacher with a mysterious past, who is kind to everyone he meets.

Last night, I watched the episode “Jaynestown.”  That episode has a lot of good things: Shepherd Book and River talks about biblical contradictions and inaccuracies, and what faith really means; the companion Inara teaches a 26-year-old virgin what it means to be a man.

The episode revolves, however, around a town that is honoring Jayne.  Jayne is played by Adam Baldwin, and he is crass, blunt, and rather self-centered.  I think of what Leia said about Han Solo in Star Wars: “Your friend is quite a mercenary.  I wonder if he cares about anything.  Or anybody.”  Jayne and some people of the Firefly crew are going to a planet, and Jayne insists on disguising himself because he caused trouble there years earlier.  They arrive on the planet, and they see a statue of…Jayne!

They go to a bar, and people are singing a song about Jayne.  The song says that Jayne stood up to the magistrate and robbed from the rich and gave to the poor.  Jayne dropped money on the peasant mud-makers from his aircraft.

Jayne then remembers what it is they are talking about.  When he was last on the planet, Jayne stole money from the magistrate.  When he was in his aircraft, he had to drop cargo in order to lighten the plane.  He accidentally let out the money.

The mud-makers recognize Jayne, and they treat him like a hero.  Jayne learns that his presence inspired the mud-makers to unite and stand up against the magistrate.  “You had a riot on account of me?”, he says.  Jayne delights in his celebrity status.

The magistrate learns that Jayne has returned, and the magistrate releases someone from a box, which is jail on that planet.  The prisoner is Stitch, who was Jayne’s partner in crime years earlier.  Jayne not only let cargo out of the aircraft to lighten the plane.  Jayne also let out Stitch!

When Jayne gives a speech to the mud-makers in front of his statue, Stitch shows up to confront him.  Stitch tells everyone the type of man that Jayne really is.  Stitch says that Jayne dropped him from the aircraft, and that the money only fell out of the aircraft by accident.  When Jayne replies that Stitch would have done the same thing to him, Stitch vehemently denies that.  Stitch says that partners are supposed to have each other’s back.

Stitch shoots Jayne, and a boy from the mud-makers jumps in front of Jayne and takes the bullet for him.  Jayne is mortified that someone would die for him.  “What’s wrong with you?,” he shouts.  “Didn’t you hear a word that he said?  All of you people, do you think someone would drop money on you, money that they could use?  Well, there ain’t people like that.  There’s just people like me.”  Jayne goes to the statue and knocks it down.

On the Firefly, Jayne is by himself, feeling sad.  The captain, Mal, comes to talk to him.  Jayne laments that the mud-makers on the planet probably raised the statue back up after they (the Firefly crew) left.  Mal replies that there are a lot of people who have statues made of them, and many of them were probably SOBs.  What is important is not whether Jayne deserved that statue.  Rather, it’s what the people needed.

I do not know if this event will change Jayne in any way.  On some level, Jayne is resigned to being the sort of person he is.  On the other hand, can one be given that sort of undeserved admiration—-which includes someone dying for him—-and be unchanged by that, at least a little bit?

I thought of a few things after watching that episode.  In the movie Saving Private Ryan, a group of Allied soldiers save Private Ryan so he can return alive to his mother, but they all get killed in the process.  The Captain, played by Tom Hanks, tells Private Ryan right before he dies to “Earn this.”

There was a story on ABC News last night about a department store Santa reaching out to a kid with autism.  The Santa listened to the boy telling him about autism and told him that he was a good boy.  This story has been liked and shared on Facebook thousands of times.  This department store Santa was probably a regular human being, with flaws like the rest of us.  He wasn’t even really Santa Claus!  But he got to be part of a sacred occasion.

From a Christian perspective, I think about Christ sacrificing himself for us and giving us honor that we do not deserve.  Does that impact or change me in any way?  It should, but it is often an abstract doctrine for me.  That is why it is good to see examples of that kind of theme in stories, and in real life.

This Aspie's Response to The Imitation Game

A few months ago, a commenter told me about the 2014 movie, The Imitation Game, and asked me to evaluate its depiction of Asperger’s Syndrome.  I saw the movie a few nights ago, and I am ready to chime in.

The movie is about Alan Turing, who decoded Nazi war codes during World War II, thereby shortening the war and saving many lives.  Turing also helped set the stage for modern-day computers.  The commenter referred me to an article that criticized the film’s depiction of Turing as a person with Asperger’s Syndrome.  The article not only said that such a depiction of Turing was inaccurate, in light of what Turing’s friends have said about him, but also that such a depiction of Turing is rather demeaning to those on the autism spectrum.  It implies that their value is based on them being good with numbers, which is not always true of people on the autism spectrum, and which devalues them as human beings.

As a person with Asperger’s, what did I think about the film?  Here are some rambling thoughts:

1.  In terms of its depiction of Asperger’s, I would say that the movie was accurate, overall.  In the movie, Turing sometimes avoided eye contact with people.  He separated his peas from his carrots.  He took things literally.  He tended to be stiff and quiet in social situations.  He had a bit of a monotone.  He preferred to work alone so that he did not have to explain himself to people.  I can identify with some of that.  As a child, my mom has told me, I would line up my toys, and I thought about that when I saw young Turing separating his peas from his carrots. I am also a bit of a loner, and I am stiff and quiet in social situations.  And, yes, I do not particularly like to explain myself to others.

Of course, none of this stuff can be absolutized, really.  Granted, in a number of books about Asperger’s, I read that taking things literally is a characteristic of people with the Syndrome.  But neither I, nor many of the people whom I have encountered in Asperger’s support groups, take things literally to the extent that Turing did in the movie.  I am able to recognize idioms, metaphors, and some social nuances (i.e., what people really mean when they say certain things).  Maybe we have had difficulty with these things in the past, and we no longer do as much because we have learned and have been socialized.  I can vaguely recall that, as a kid, I would take certain idioms literally or picture them literally in my mind, the way that Temple Grandin did in the Temple Grandin movie.  But I do not do that as an adult, as much (if at all).

I also am not as cold as the Turing character.  I would not have fired those two mediocre decoders on the spot but would have thought about their livelihoods and their families.  There are people with Asperger’s who may prize efficiency above people, but there are also many who do not, especially considering that so many of us have been in vulnerable situations and have needed compassion and understanding from others.

2.  I agree with the article that there are many people on the autism spectrum who are not good at math.  Still, I do believe that people on the spectrum should be encouraged that they can contribute to the stream of life and can find a niche for themselves, with help from others.  What we should NOT be told is something like this: “What’s your problem?  Why can’t you get your shit together?  Thomas Jefferson, John Nash in a Beautiful Mind, Alan Turing, Albert Einstein, Temple Grandin, and Jerry Seinfeld were on the autism spectrum, and they went on to be successful.  What’s your problem?  Stop whining, and start looking for a way to contribute!”  (NOTE: We are not sure that all of the people in that list were on the spectrum, but you can probably get the point of what this hypothetical interlocutor is saying.)  The thing is, some of us may need help to find and to develop our niche, and telling us to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, when we have fewer bootstraps than a lot of people, is not particularly helpful.  But we can still contribute, and I am inspired by movies that highlight that.  They encourage me to keep on keeping on, for something good can happen to me down the road.  I think of what the Tom Hanks character said in the movie Castaway: keep on surviving, for you do not know what the shore may bring.

3.  Of course, reality is not always as glamorous as what we see in the movies.  The wikipedia article about The Imitation Game highlighted that.  In the movie, Alan Turing is a man who sticks by his machine against incredible odds and apparent lack of success, until he finally succeeds.  In reality, he was working with a bunch of people.  But which version makes a more compelling story?  In the movie, his fiancee and colleague Joan Clark is pretty (yet pretty in a down-to-earth way)—-the actress who plays her has been on FHM’s 100 Sexiest Women in the World List more than once—-and yet Joan Clark in real life was rather plain.  And, to come back to the topic of this post, Alan Turing in the movie has Asperger’s (or manifests characteristics of Asperger’s), whereas, in real life, he could have been more socially adept.  But underdog stories about people overcoming significant odds are compelling, endearing stories.

I wouldn’t suggest that people throw away their dreams.  A person with Asperger’s may feel let down after watching an inspiring movie about a person with Asperger’s succeeding, only to learn that the person depicted in the movie did not actually have Asperger’s (or may not have had Asperger’s) in real life.  But, in real life, there are people with Asperger’s who find a niche in life, who have employment, and who have a spouse or a significant other.  It’s not impossible, so don’t lose heart.  My advice—-to myself and others—-is to have dreams and to let them inspire you to keep working and trying.  Just remember that real life is not as glamorous as the stories we see in movies and on television, and even read in books.  Temper your dreams with some realism.

My Blog Is 6!

Today is my blog’s sixth birthday!  What I want to do in this post is to share with you my goals for this coming year of blogging, including my struggles over what some of my goals will be.

My plan is to continue My Year (or More) of Nixon until February 2014. I probably will not read all of the books that I planned to read.  I said on this blog, for example, that I was thinking of reading Theodore White’s books on the 1960, 1968, and 1972 Presidential elections, but that probably won’t happen.  I’m currently drawn more to some of the books about Nixon that are in my local library than I am to some of the books that are in my own personal library.  But I may get back to the latter after March 2014,  Essentially, I’ll be taking a break from My Year (or More) of Nixon in February-March 2014.  Then, I will decide whether to resume my reading of books about Nixon, or to move on to something else.

In February 2014, I will blog through two books for Black History Month.  One is John McWhorter’s Losing the Race: Self-Sabotage in Black America.  The other is Andrew Hacker’s Two Nations: Black and White, Separate, Hostile, Unequal.  McWhorter’s book was recommended to me by a conservative who was essentially saying that racism was not a problem that was holding African-Americans back anymore, since there were many African-Americans who were doing quite well, and many who were not had themselves to blame. (I question whether McWhorter himself would go that far, however.)  Hacker’s book was recommended to me by an African-American who wanted to show me that racism indeed remained a problem in American society.

March 2014 will be Women’s History Month.  For that, I am planning to blog through two books.  The first is Christopher Byron’s Martha, Inc. which is a biography of Martha Stewart.  I’ve been wanting to read this book ever since I saw it in a bookstore over a decade ago.  I didn’t buy it at the time, but I saw it at a Goodwill years later and bought it then.  I got chills as I read the following line from the cover’s jacket: “Byron attends, through fly-on-the-wall sources, executive meetings with some of the most powerful individuals in American business to watch as they try to deal with a woman who emerged from nowhere to overpower them all.”  I would probably not buy stocks from Martha Stewart, but I respect her because she is a confident, powerful woman, who (according to Byron) apparently rose from obscurity.

The other book that I will read in March 2014 is Carl Bernstein’s A Woman in Charge, which is a biography of Hillary Clinton.  When I was a conservative, I disliked Hillary Clinton immensely (not that I knew her).  Now, I tend to admire her strength and her mind.  Bernstein’s book dates to 2007, so it won’t have anything about her 2008 run for the Presidency, or her time as Secretary of State.  But it may have interesting material about her life up to 2007, which would include her childhood and early life, and her time as First Lady and then United States Senator.

April 2014 will be National Autism Month.  I may blog through a book about Asperger’s for that, or I may not.

A lot of my posts this coming year of blogging will be about political history, or contemporary issues.  Will I still write about the Bible and religion?  Probably so.  I will continue my blog posts about the Book of Psalms until I am done with the Book.  As far as what I will do after that for my weekly quiet time posts is concerned, I’m thinking about that.  Maybe I’ll go on to Proverbs.  Maybe I’ll go on to I-II Chronicles, since I already have an Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture book that includes Chronicles.  Or I may do nothing, since there’s no guarantee that I will have the time.  Come to think of it, most of my plans for this blog that I am discussing are rather tentative.  But they’re what I hope to do.

I’ll still be blogging about my weekly church services.  On whether I will blog about my church’s Bible study, I am debating if I will even attend that.  I have problems with conservative evangelical Christianity, and so I wonder if I should go to my church’s Bible study, where people seem to (on some level) have that particular perspective.  Going to church with my aversion to conservative evangelical Christianity is one thing, but going to a Bible study group is another, since Bible study groups are smaller and more intimate.  I have been reading some of my past posts about my church’s Bible study, and I think that they’re good posts.  Sometimes, the best posts are the ones that we write when we are struggling with something!  But I’m questioning whether I even want to blog about my religious struggles to the extent that I have in the past.  I’ve blogged about a lot of them before, and I’m not sure that I have anything new to add.  Plus, maybe I just don’t want to think about my religious struggles, and would just prefer to enjoy my life.

I’d like to close this post by thanking those who read me.  I have readers who may not read every single post that I write, but they have been reading me for years, and I appreciate that.  I also welcome people who have started reading me.  This past year has been rather slow in terms of my blogs getting new followers, or my posts getting “likes.”  I’ve had previous years that were much more fruitful, at least in that area.  But I appreciate those who read me—-those who come to my blog looking for information, those who click “like,” those who comment, and those who don’t.  I disagree with a blogger who said that blogs that don’t include a space for comments are not true examples of blogging, for my own definition of blogging is simply having a blog and writing on it on a fairly regular basis, whether or not one is popular or interacts with a lot of readers.  But it’s nice to have readers.

On to year 7!

Leaders 3

A theme that came up more than once in my latest reading of Richard Nixon's Leaders was alcohol.  Here are some stories that Nixon tells:

----Page 143: "[German leader Konrad Adenauer] had other weapons besides the cold steel of logic, however.  When a cabinet meeting grew difficult, he would sometimes suspend debate for a while and pass around a bottle of wine.  After a few glassfuls and some friendly small talk, he would resume the meeting.  The opposition would then be substantially less resolute."

----Page 155: "[Soviet leader Nikita] Khrushchev was then relatively new to power and unfamiliar with the leaders he would be confronting in the free world.  He was clearly intent upon testing Adenauer's mettle.  During one banquet he proposed a seemingly endless series of toasts to see whether the seventy-nine-year-old Adenauer, so intractable at the negotiating table, could be worn down by liquor.  Though he preferred wine to vodka, Adenauer had a stomach as well as a will of iron.  After fifteen toasts he was still both upright and alert----alert enough, in fact, to notice that Khrushchev had been drinking water.  The next morning Adenauer confronted Khrushchev with the tongue-in-cheek suggestion that any man who would do such a thing could not be trusted.  Surprised to find that he had been caught in the act, Khrushchev could only laugh."

Page 188: "The table was laden with every manner of Russian delicacy and soft and hard drinks.  Despite his well-deserved reputation for drinking heavily, Khrushchev only sampled the array of vodka and wine.  He appreciated good food and drink.  But just as his famed temper was always his servant and not his master, his drinking on this occasion was strictly for pleasure and was never permitted to interfere with business.  He was cold sober throughout our long afternoon of talks."

Alcohol can indeed be conducive to camaraderie and socializing in a relaxed manner.  I one time heard a person with Asperger's Syndrome talk about how he did not really fit in with his Irish extended family----until they started to get drunk together.  Then, they could have fun and bond with each other.

But alcohol can also hinder some people from doing the business that they need to do.  Khrushchev did not want to get drunk when negotiating because he wanted for his mind to be alert and sharp during that time.  And, speaking of the negative effects that drinking lots of alcohol can bring, that one person with Asperger's whom I discussed in my above paragraph eventually decided to quit drinking, for he thought that he was degenerating into a sour alcoholic.

I used to drink for a variety of reasons.  I drank socially because I hoped that it would loosen me up in social settings.  Social settings make me nervous.  I tend to clam up within them, which is not particularly attractive to people and which can even draw mockery.  Drinking helped me to loosen up, to relax, and to talk more.  Did that make me more attractive to people?  To some people it did, and to some people it didn't.  One person told me I was fun when I was drinking, which was probably true because I loosened up when I was drunk, whereas when I was not drinking I was more stiff, reserved, formal, and guarded.  But not everyone likes to be around someone who's drunk and who's saying a lot of silly things with bombast.  Come to think of it, I myself don't, particularly.

But I drank even more in solitude.  The reason was that it made me feel better.  I have Asperger's Syndrome, and what that means is that I don't do too well socially.  I have a history of not fitting in and of being rejected by people, and I become resentful when I think back about that.  I also have fear about the future: how will I make a living in the future if I have a hard time getting people to like me?  Drinking was a way for me to self-medicate.  And it got to the point where no amount was enough.  I would go through a six-pack on certain nights and still want more.  I could identify with something that Leo McGarry said on an episode of The West Wing: he kept on drinking because he wanted that feeling to go on!  But waking up with a hangover was no fun.  I think of what Scotty said on that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation: never get drunk unless you're willing to pay for it the next morning!

I decided to stop drinking, and I have been sober for what I consider to be a respectable number of years----though, regardless of how many years that one is sober, it's always one-day-at-a-time.  What do I do now that I don't drink?  How do I do socially?  How do I cope with my resentments about the past and my fears about the future?  How do I self-medicate?

Socially-speaking, I'm not as nervous now as I used to be when talking with people.  But I still can be rather stiff, formal, and reserved.  I doubt that I would be the life of the party were I to go to a party.  By and large, my policy about a lot of social gatherings that I have to attend is "suit up and show up."  I show up, do my duty, and I leave.  Sometimes, I can end up having enjoyable, interesting conversations with people.  Sometimes, I just want to rush to the door!  I'm just speaking for myself, and there are plenty of people within recovery groups who would tell you that they became more fun----more happy, joyous, and free----when they quit drinking and did the spiritual work on themselves that would help them to stay sober.  That's fine (even though I get rather sick of people bragging about how happy and spiritual they are), but it's just not me.  Come to think of it, though, I do have a little more serenity now that I don't drink.  I'm not the life of the party, but I do have a quiet, flat sort of peace.  One thing I will add: I'm not sure if my social mettle has been truly tested over the past couple of years.  My Mom and her husband accept me, even though I am quiet.  I go to church, and there are plenty of people at the pot-lucks who themselves are quiet, so I don't feel out-of-place being quiet.  That doesn't mean that I feel compelled to throw myself into hyper-social situations, though.

How do I cope with my resentments about the past and my fears about the future?  This is still a struggle for me, to tell you the truth.  Many within recovery groups find that working with a mentor or a sponsor is helpful.  It can be.  I don't do that as much nowadays, since I'm not really in recovery groups, due to my struggle to fit in at them.  But I did find one time that talking with my pastor really helped me.  I was nervous about a social event that was coming up, which I had to attend, and my pastor gave me encouragement.  It's good when you can find someone who's rooting for you and can give you guidance to hang on to within a tough setting.  Another way that I cope is through prayer and Bible reading, and, the more I feel resentful on a given day, the more I pray and read the Bible.  That doesn't necessarily solve my problems, to tell you the truth, but it does help me to alleviate feelings of resentment or fear that I may have.

Lars and the Real Girl, and a Community's Acceptance

I watched the 2007 movie Lars and the Real Girl a couple of nights ago.  You can read about it here.  Also check out Roger Ebert's excellent review of the movie. 

There were plenty of times when I was bored with the movie, to tell you the truth, but I will venture to say that it touched me emotionally more than any other movie that I have ever watched (which is quite a statement, I know!).  The reason is that we have a man named Lars who (like me) is a shy, socially awkward, rather eccentric loner.  And we have his community, which accepts him.  Is the real world like this?  Not everywhere, or even most places, I will say that!  But there are some places that accept people who are rather socially-awkward and different.  In my post here, I quoted blogger David Nilsen, who talked about a church that he visited:

“My favorite image from this journey has been from a Church of the Brethren we’re considering. It’s a boring, uncool church, but comfortable being what it is. They sing hymns accompanied by a piano, and no one leads the singing, and they sound shrill and awkward and I kind of love them for it. One week a partially blind old woman was sitting near the middle of the sanctuary. She was wearing a hideous pink dress she was clearly proud of. In the middle of a hymn she pulled out a flute and began playing along as loudly as she could. No one was phased. They kept right on singing around her. I get the feeling this happens somewhat regularly, and the fact that no one has suggested she leave her flute at home tells me a great deal about the hearts of these people.”

I've encountered churches that are quite accepting of people with various quirks, treating them as part of the family.  Lars' church in the movie was like that.

The thing about this movie is, it doesn't just make me wish that others could be more accepting of people with quirks.  It actually made me want to be more accepting and loving towards others, myself.  Watching that movie was like attending a church service where I felt particularly inspired, and I walked out the door happy and loving.  That feeling is not easy to sustain, but thinking about the community's acceptance of Lars in that movie is, for me, a foretaste of what heaven will be like. 

The Loner

I got back to reading M. Scott Peck's The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth.

What particularly stood out to me in my latest reading was a scenario that Peck described on pages 131-134.  It concerned a hypothetical woman in her late forties who comes to church and slips out without greeting anyone, even the pastor.  If, by chance, she were invited to the coffee hour after the service, she'd thank the person inviting her but would decline, saying that she has another engagement, when really she's just heading back to her apartment.  She has a job as a typist, but she doesn't have any social connections.  In terms of activities, she goes to the movies on Saturday afternoons.  She currently has no pets, but she once had a dog, who passed on eight years ago.  If one were to tell her that her life seemed lonely, she would respond that she rather enjoys her loneliness.  According to Peck, she is trying to avoid pain, both the pain of loss and also the pain of rejection.  But in the process, Peck claims, she's missing out on things that make life "alive, meaningful and significant": "having children, getting married, the ecstasy of sex, the hope of ambition, friendship" (page 133).  Plus, she remains stagnant rather than growing.

This reminded me somewhat of the June 6, 2001 daily devotion in Our Daily Bread, which was entitled "The Loner".  In this daily devotion, Herbert Vander Lugt talks about a high school friend of his who was a loner.  This friend "spent his time reading books, [and] isolated himself in his parents’ home until they died..."  According to Herbert Vander Lugt, this friend "never had to sacrificially love a wife, never had his sleep disturbed by a crying child, never agonized over a rebellious teen, and never cried over the misfortunes of a close friend", and yet he also missed out on "some of life’s greatest joys and deepest satisfactions."  Herbert Vander Lugt then proceeds to give us a little lecture about how God is not a loner, as we learn from the doctrine of the Trinity, and he concludes by saying that "Through faith in Jesus, God forgives us and brings us into fellowship with Himself and others, saving us from the tragedy of being loners."

When I first read Herbert Vander Lugt's "The Loner", I was utterly disgusted.  A significant reason was that, well, I'm a loner, and thus I felt judged.  I did not think that Herbert Vander Lugt in that particular devotion really conveyed that he attempted to understand why his friend became a loner.  Rather, my impression was that Herbert Vander Lugt talked about his friend being a loner, judged his friend, gave a little lecture about how we shouldn't be loners because God is not a loner, and then said that Christ brings us into fellowship with other people.  Unfortunately, I thought, things are not so simple!  For one, sure, God may not be a loner, but there are plenty of people who are loners by temperament.  Perhaps they're introverts, or they are on the autism spectrum.  Why should they be made to feel guilty or second-class because they're not acting contrary to how they are?  Second, it's not easy for every Christian to fit into social settings that have other Christians, or other people in general, for that matter.

Perhaps Herbert Vander Lugt indeed did try to understand where his friend was coming from, and his whole point about his friend never having to sacrificially love anyone or agonize over other people reflects why his friend chose to be a loner.  I certainly think that these are reasons that some choose a life of solitude: they don't like to be bothered with people, who can be quite a hassle!  But I also think that Peck does well to offer other reasons: loners may fear getting too close to people and losing them, and they may fear rejection.

Herbert Vander Lugt and Peck may have a point that loneliness is not an ideal situation.  I have my reasons for being a loner, many of which overlap with what Herbert Vander Lugt and Peck discuss.  I'd add other factors as well: my difficulty in coming up with things to say when I socialize, my timidity, my fear of saying the wrong thing, the fact that there have been times in the past when I have said the wrong thing or said something in an imperfect way and thus turned people off, bad relationships in the past in which I felt mocked or dismissed, not wanting to give people the satisfaction of rejecting me when I want to be their friend, etc.  At the same time, it does feel good to me when I realize that there are people who care for me, and when I care for others (people and pets).  Of course, these are relationships in which I don't have to exert too much effort to be accepted, so that's why I like them.

One area in which I object to Herbert Vander Lugt and Peck's discussion is that they seem to suggest that being married and having kids is for everyone.  It's not.  At this moment, I don't think that I have enough love within me to be a father and a husband.  So why should I try to be a father or a husband, if I feel I'm not cut out for that right now?

Another point that I want to make concerns growth.  Growth is a significant part of Peck's conception of love, for he believes that we love ourselves when we pursue growth, and we love others when we are concerned about their growth.  Peck said that the loner woman was not growing, and I've heard similar things from other people: "If you isolate yourself, then how will you grow?"  This somewhat annoys me, for they should tell me why I should even want to grow.  I guess I can come up with reasons that I'd like to grow: so that I can meet life with greater serenity, so that I can get along better with others, so that I can have confidence and thus have and do well at a job, etc.  But, in the case of the loner woman and Herbert Vander Lugt's friend, these people have already found ways to support themselves or to be supported, plus they seem to be fairly content with life.  Why should they have to grow, to meet somebody else's expectations as to what constitutes a fulfilling life?

Tricky Dick and the Pink Lady 4

I have three items for my write-up today on Greg Mitchell's Tricky Dick and the Pink Lady: Richard Nixon vs. Helen Gahagan Douglas----Sexual Politics and the Red Scare, 1950.

1.  When I was blogging through Irwin Gellman's The Contender, I quoted something that Gellman said on page 289 about the 1950 U.S. Senate race between Richard Nixon and Democrat Helen Gahagan Douglas (see here):

"The U.S. Senate contest in California during 1950 has been the stuff where legend has replaced fact.  ‘Tricky Dicky’ smeared Helen Gahagan Douglas, the ‘Pink Lady,’ thus relying on the anti-Communist hysteria to propel the dirty trickster into the upper House.  The record, however, paints quite a different scene.  Helen Gahagan Douglas was far to the left of many Democrats, let alone Republicans.  Besides her close attachment to New and Fair Deal policies that the majority of her party was abandoning, she ran the campaign without the benefit of an effective statewide staff, clearly defined strategy, or an adequate fund-raising scheme.  Along with these Herculean disadvantages, a large segment of the Democratic Party had rejected her unswerving advocacy of liberalism.  By the time of the general election, she had been thoroughly smeared, not by Nixon but by her own party.  Faced with widespread Democratic desertion that she was unable to prevent, Douglas never united the warring factions of the Democratic Party to battle against the Republican enemy.  Her painfully inept stewardship—-not Nixon—-guaranteed her demise."

While Greg Mitchell (in contrast to Gellman) portrays Richard Nixon as someone who ruthlessly exploited widespread anti-Communist sentiment to defeat Helen Gahagan Douglas in 1950, Mitchell, like Gellman, believes that there were other factors that contributed to Douglas' loss, some of which were Douglas' fault.  Like Gellman, Mitchell acknowledges that Douglas endured a rough primary, as she was attacked by her Democratic opponents for allegedly being soft on Communism.  Like Gellman, Mitchell states that Douglas had difficulty getting support from a number of Democrats, since she was deemed to be too far to the Left; Mitchell also discusses the factor of sexism, something that (as far as I remember) Gellman did not really address.  Gellman and Mitchell both argue that Douglas pursued a poor strategy when she tried to exploit the anti-Communist issue herself, as she contended that some of Nixon's votes in the U.S. House overlapped with those of Vito Marcantonio, a far left Congressman who was believed to have pro-Soviet sympathies, for anti-Communism was Nixon's territory: who would believe that Nixon was pro-Communist, when he was the one who brought down Alger Hiss?

And Mitchell tells about another decision that Douglas made that did not particularly help her campaign.  Douglas, after she won the Democratic nomination, was in a capacity in which she could recommend nominees to President Truman for federal offices in California.  She recommended a number of liberals for a federal judgeship there, to no avail.  She then learned that Truman had nominated William Byrne for the benefit of her campaign, for Byrne was a Roman Catholic and a "friend of the powerful (and politically conservative) archbishop of Los Angeles, J. Francis McIntyre" (page 92).  If Douglas could call McIntyre and take credit for recommending Byrne to Truman, she could get more Catholic support in California.  But Douglas had reservations about Byrne, for "She suspected that Byrne was the candidate of Ed Pauley, the Los Angeles oilman close to Truman (and, lately, to Nixon)" (page 92).  She apparently did not call McIntyre, "and McIntyre would work miracles for Nixon" (page 92).  Douglas appears to have held fast to her principles, but that did not help her politically.

2.  Nixon's strategy was to argue that there was a significant overlap between the votes of Helen Gahagan Douglas and the far-left Vito Marcantonio in the U.S. House.  I talked in my post here about Stephen Ambrose's discussion of the claim by reporter Earl Mazo that Marcantonio did not like Douglas and actually encouraged Nixon to beat Douglas by appealing to the similarity of her votes with those of Marcantonio.  Mitchell appears to accept the narrative that Marcantonio did not like Douglas, and Mitchell speculates that this could have been because "he resented that she had become a national hero of the left without spending years in the trenches as he had" (page 106).  Moreover, according to Mitchell, Marcantonio and Nixon were actually friendly with each other.  On page 105, Mitchell states, in what I consider to be a beautiful passage: "Nixon and Marcantonio were friendly foes on the Hill.  Each knew where the other stood on practically every issue, and each granted the other grudging respect for sticking to his principles.  Marcantonio was wrong about nearly everything, Nixon believed, but sincere and not a political opportunist."

3.  On pages 107-108, Mitchell has a profound passage about the struggles of political reporter Mary Ellen Leary to succeed in what at the time was a man's world:

"From the start, her male peers warned that she could not expect to have the 'same relationship' they enjoyed with politicians, a cozy one built on drinking or playing cards.  It took her two years to discover that she was routinely excluded from dinner parties where politicians, lobbyists, and reporters mingled, and she was furious when Governor [Earl] Warren kept her off invitation lists.  On balance, however, she felt she benefited from a more 'healthy' relationship with her subjects and believed that as a woman she 'listened better' and got more out of them in interviews."

I like how Leary was able to capitalize on her strengths in spite of the barriers that were in her path.  This is not to suggest that discrimination is not a problem and that women should be able to circumvent it by their talent.  That's not what I'm saying.  Rather, I'm expressing admiration for someone who was able to capitalize on her assets.  I am not discriminated against, but I have barriers to my success on account of my Asperger's Syndrome.  But the question that I need to ask myself is: What are my strengths, and how can I capitalize on those?  How can I use who I am to succeed, the way that Mary Ellen Leary used who she was----a journalist who listened----to be a good political reporter?

Deuteronomy 2-3: Dealing with Fear

In this post, I'll write about my daily quiet times in Deuteronomy 2-3.  My focus will be on dealing with fear.  I'll be looking at the Conquest, which is a very grisly subject, to say the least.  But, in reading Deuteronomy 2-3, I thought of four insights that can help me in terms of my attitude and my day-to-day life.  I hope that you will agree with me that the lessons are valid, even if the Conquest understandably disturbs your moral sensibilities.

The Israelites were about to embark upon a new challenge.  The prior generation of Israelite warriors had died off, and a new generation of Israelites was taking their place.  This new generation did not have as much experience in terms of waging wars, and they were about to fight Amorites and Canaanites who were bigger and stronger than they were, all to take possession of a huge countryside that, according to the previous generation of Israelites, devoured its inhabitants (Numbers 13:32).  Would this new generation of Israelites be successful at such a daunting task?  Many of us can probably identify with them in that we ourselves have embarked upon challenging tasks and wonder if we're ready or equipped for them, or if instead they are too much for us.

One lesson that I got from the passage was that God may show us that the intimidating task can actually be done.  There is a lot in Deuteronomy 2 about the other peoples who have conquered the intimidating inhabitants of the Transjordan or Canaan: the people of Esau, the Moabites, the Ammonites, and the Caphtorites.  God declares that he gave land to the Edomites and the descendants of Lot (Ammon and Moab), which probably means that God helped them to defeat the inhabitants.  This is not said in Deuteronomy 2 about the Caphtorites, however, but Amos 9:7 affirms that God brought the Philistines from Caphtor, which perhaps implies that God had a hand in the Caphtorites' success, as well.

In my opinion, God was reassuring the Israelites that conquering the inhabitants of Canaan was possible, for God had helped other people-groups to defeat intimidating foes.  In short, the Israelites could win with God's help, as had the other people-groups.  Joel Osteen says in Your Best Life Now that, in order for something to become possible, you first have to conceive of it on the inside, which means your mind.  My problem is that I cannot always conceive of myself competently performing certain tasks.  Maybe I should start imagining myself doing those tasks, as well as draw inspiration and wisdom from others who have gone through their struggles (i.e., Asperger's Syndrome, or other challenges) and yet have managed to succeed.

The second lesson that I got from the passage was that God may help us to get our feet wet.  God brought Sihon, king of the Amorites, against Israel, even after Israel had made overtures of peace towards him.  Perhaps God was trying to get Israel's feet wet: to prepare her for her battles against the Canaanites by helping her first to triumph against a powerful king in the Transjordan.  It's one thing for Israel to see that other people-groups had defeated intimidating foes with God's help, but it was quite another thing for Israel to learn that she herself could do so.  Israel's war against Sihon gave her practice, competence, and confidence.  I think that, sometimes, God may use certain situations to get our feet wet.  Or we can get our own feet wet through baby-steps.  

The third lesson that I got from the passage was that we should do what we can and leave the rest to God.  I am often afraid that people will not like me, and I look back at my past and see people rejecting me even after I had tried to be nice.  In the case of Israel, she was actually nice to King Sihon: she asked him to let her pass through his land, and she would pay the Amorites for food and for water.  Israel was trying to be peaceful, but Sihon responded by launching a war against her.  We can try to be nice, but there may be factors beyond our control.  Sihon, for example, may have been intimidated by a massive group of Israelites on the move around his territory, for he wondered how they would affect him.  Would they attack?  Would they take his resources?  Moreover, there was God's role in all of this, for God had a plan behind Sihon's rejection of Israel's peaceful overtures.  I'm reminded of Romans 12:18, which states (in the KJV): "If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."  We can only do our part in seeking peace with people, and we should leave the things that we can't control to God.

The fourth lesson that I got from the passage was that we should do the task before us with all of our might.  Deuteronomy 3:3 says (in the KJV): "So the LORD our God delivered into our hands Og also, the king of Bashan, and all his people: and we smote him until none was left to him remaining."  The Israelites really dived into the task of fighting Og, king of Bashan, such that they got the job done.  Similarly, when we are met with an intimidating task, perhaps the way that we can get past our fears is to dive into the task.

Going Out on Your Own

I recently read Numbers 32, in which the tribes of Reuben and Gad prefer to settle in the Transjordan rather than the land of Canaan.  They agree, however, to assist the rest of Israel in conquering Canaan.

The first time that this story became solidified in my mind was when I was a student at Harvard Divinity School.  I did a lot of private quiet times while I was there, and there was a time when I was going through the Book of Numbers.  But I think that I might have heard the story before, when I was a child.  If so, then it was probably in a sermon by David Antion or Ron Dart, because they actually touched on some of the lesser known stories in the Hebrew Bible.

But, as a child, if my memory serves me correctly, I didn't know exactly what to do with the story.  Why's that?  Because it's not entirely clear what is right and what is wrong within it.  In many of the Bible stories that I heard as a child, there were good guys and there were bad guys, or (since the good guys didn't always do good) there was at least God's standard about what was right and what was wrong.  But my vague recollection is that the story in Numbers 32 struck me as different.  We're not explicitly told what God thinks about the desire of Reuben and Gad to locate in the Transjordan.  Reuben and Gad don't seem to be malicious in their request: they just like the Transjordan for its pastureland.  But I had the impression that there was something wrong with what they were doing, only I wasn't being told what that was.  And, as a child with Asperger's (though Asperger's wasn't exactly on my family's radar at the time), I liked to be told things explicitly rather than shown.

Years later from my childhood, I heard plenty of preachers who would tell me (well, not me personally, but me as a listener or as someone in their audience) what they thought was wrong with the request by Reuben and Gad: that Reuben and Gad were pursuing an alternative to God's plan for Israel to inherit the Promised Land, or that Reuben and Gad were cutting themselves off from the larger body of God's people by striking out on their own.  Points of application for Christians were drawn from the story.  For example, one claim that preachers made was that, in the same way that Reuben was taken out early by Assyria, so Christians who cut themselves off from the church body are especially vulnerable to Satanic attack.  (Never mind the attacks that Christians may receive inside of the church walls----judgmentalism, authoritarianism, etc.)  Another claim made was that Reuben and Gad, by separating themselves from the larger body of Israel, were missing out on the glorious things that God was doing for his people.  Similarly, I was told, Christians who forsake the assembly of the brethren miss out on seeing and hearing about what God is doing in people's lives.  (This may be a valid point, but God is everywhere, not just in the church.)

The thing is, though, that God tolerated what Reuben and Gad did.  I don't think that it was considered to be ideal within the larger story of the Bible, for it's interesting to note that Ezekiel 48's prediction about the division of Israel gives Reuben and Gad land in the Cisjordan, not the Transjordan.  But God tolerated Reuben and Gad's preference for the Transjordan.  That didn't make much sense to my Aspie mind when I was a child: that there is not always black and white, but there is often better and worse.  Come to think of it, I'm not sure to what extent a number of religionists would be comfortable with shades of gray, as they seek in the Scriptures clear rules of what is right and what is wrong for all time.

I found that my latest reading of Numbers 32 was different from some of my previous readings, and I mean as an adult.  During my previous readings, I somewhat identified with Reuben and Gad because I myself was a lone-ranger Christian.  Even though I went to church and a small group in the past, I recoiled from Christian community, since I had a hard time fitting into social settings, plus I felt more at ease when I was reading the Bible by myself.  Part of this was my Asperger's, and part of it was my religious heritage, for I came from a family and associated with people who felt disconnected from church and decided to avoid the trap of organized religion by reading the Bible on their own, or with their families.  And that was considered to be all right.  It was mainly when I entered evangelicalism that I heard that it was not all right (though even evangelicalism had stories of people finding God alone in their hotel rooms as they read a Gideon's Bible, or similar occurrences).

But, this time around, when I read Numbers 32, I felt sad, especially by v 22, in which Moses tells Reuben and Gad that, after they fight the Conquest, they will be exempt from their obligations to the LORD and to Israel.  Moses may have meant that they didn't have to fight the Conquest anymore, but perhaps he meant that Reuben and Gad didn't have to serve the larger body of Israel at all after the Conquest, if they chose not to do so.  (And Judges 5:16-17 may suggest that Reuben didn't feel an obligation to Israel after the Conquest and sat out of Israel's war against Sisera.)  For some reason, it saddens me that Reuben felt so disconnected from the rest of Israel----as if it could care less about what happened to the LORD's people.

I wonder if Reuben and Gad felt marginalized within Israel even before they chose to settle in the Transjordan.  I can't really speak about Gad, for I don't know much about that tribe, but Reuben in the Hebrew Bible is criticized because Reuben slept with Jacob's servant-girl (Genesis 35:22; 49:3-4; I Chronicles 5:1), and Reubenites led a revolt against Moses and Aaron (Numbers 16:1).  The Reubenites were once a prominent tribe within Israel, for Reuben was called Jacob's firstborn, but Reuben declined in number, according to Numbers 26 (if one compares the census there and the census in Numbers 1) and perhaps Deuteronomy 33:6.  Did Reuben get to the point where it did not feel that it had a home within Israel----that it was not valued, and so it might as well go off on its own rather than have a second-class status within the larger Israelite community?

In terms of where I am now, I still value having an individual faith----of believing that God has a relationship with me personally and loves me, whether or not I fit into a Christian community (and, right now, I have an excellent church home).  For me, it's important for my faith to be my own, not something that group-think imposes on me.  But I also think that it's good to be connected with other people, on some level----to care about them, to be invested in them and their success, to care about the LORD's cause and whether or not people's lives are being improved for the better (as people come to know a loving God, or the poor are fed).  Unlike a number of evangelicals, I don't make this into some iron-clad rule about how to please God, for there are many people who have difficulty finding a church community where they fit in----and beating them up with self-righteous platitudes like "Well, you need to reach out to people, too" (when an outsider reaching out to people in church may then be looked on as a freak by the in-crowd) or "You need to be the change that you want to see" does not really help matters.  In my opinion, they can find comfort in a one-on-one relationship with God, and God does not look down on them for going that route.

Harvard Libraries and Reading

There was a lot of ground covered in my latest reading of Ari Goldman's The Search for God at Harvard: Ari's search for a library at Harvard where he felt comfortable studying; Ari's happiness that being a student gave him a chance to read more books than he could when he was a reporter, caught up in the hustle and bustle of his responsibilities; how writing a paper for a class was different from writing a news story (he got a "B" on a paper); how he felt bad when he was violating Shabbat, not because he feared divine retribution, but because keeping the Sabbath allowed him to be himself; how he was not allowed to help a tired woman carry her groceries on the Sabbath, and he felt bad on account of that; how a Catholic church in the 1980's rejected a request by a man dying of AIDS and his wife to renew their vows at the church, and the arch-conservative John J. O'Connor stepped in, reversed that decision, and attended the wedding; Goldman's interview with the controversial John Shelby Spong; and how attending a synagogue provided male Orthodox Jews with a conversation-starter for women attending the synagogue, namely, "Shabbat Shalom, what did you think of the sermon?"

What I'll comment on in this post will be where I mostly studied when I was at Harvard, and also the question of whether or not being a student gave me more time to read for pleasure.

I started out studying at the Divinity School library.  The thing is, before it got refurbished, it was not particularly the most comfortable place to study, for it largely had desks with hard chairs (but there were a few couches).  Goldman mentions the distraction of the congenial people there, but I tended to avoid the library because it reminded me of how I did not fit in with people: I preferred a place where I did not know as many people, rather than to be at the Div School, where I was reminded that I did not fit in.  (I'm trying to get over this avoidant personality trait.)  I tried Widener, but Widener had a lot of desks with hard chairs, and I found the study carrels where the books were to be dark, lonely, and depressing.  I studied at Lamont for a while.  The big room on the first floor had comfortable chairs, but there were a lot of people there, so it was distracting.  Like Ari, I sometimes studied at the Farnsworth library at Lamont, and it was a nice place of solitude, but it was rather dark, and the leather chairs were not always the most comfortable for me.  I often went to the law school library, but the place that had the comfortable chairs had a lot of people circulating around.

And then I found Hilles, which Ari does not mention.  I learned of Hilles when I was looking for a video, and the online catalog said that it was at Hilles.  I used to enjoy watching movies at DePauw University, and I wondered if Hilles, too, had a place where I could watch movies.  And it did: it had a video collection, and also a room with televisions.  Moreover, even though it was a rather big library and had lots of books on a variety of subjects (and I could often find what I needed there for papers), not many people were there.  And there was a nice comfortable sofa, where I could lay down and do my reading.  Plus, during my second and third years as a student at Harvard Divinity School, Hilles was the closest library to where I lived.  I enjoyed taking walks at Hilles when hardly anybody was there, as I prayed and looked at books.  But I can't say that I was entirely isolated socially, for there were a few Div School students who also hanged out there, either to study, or because they worked there for their work-study, or both.  So I got to have some small-talk with other students, but I found Hilles to be calmer on my nerves than the other libraries at Harvard.

And I wonder if the layout of Hilles had something to do with it being calmer on my nerves.  I said that it was a big library, and it was, somewhat.  But the ceiling was rather low on each floor.  And Hilles struck me and others as a rather Spartan place, which was why others I knew thought that it was a depressing place to study (someone told me that it needed new carpeting), whereas I liked it.  At other libraries, the ceiling was usually really high, which intimidated me, and there was also a lot of color at them (i.e., a lot of blue at the law school).  One characteristic that I've heard that people with Asperger's have is that they like monochromatic settings.  I'm not sure if that is universally true, but that may be another reason why I enjoyed studying at Hilles: it was simple and Spartan.

Now for my question about reading: Did I have more opportunities to read for pleasure as a student?  Goldman on page 184 says: "My year at Harvard was a little like fulfilling a legion of New York intellectual fantasies.  It was like reading The New York Review of Books and knowing that you would have time to read each new book reviewed."

I found my time at DePauw University and at Harvard to be a lot like that, and the reason was that, when researching for papers, I had an opportunity to read quite a few books.  At Harvard, I decided to do a paper on Paul Tillich for a class, and so I got to read Tillich's huge systematic theology, which my Mom gave me.  I was thinking about writing a paper on Karl Barth's view on revelation, and so I read the volumes of his Church Dogmatics about the Bible as the Word of God.  I was taking a class on Jonathan Edwards, and so I read Freedom of the Will, Original Sin, and Religious Affections in researching for my paper.  I considered that to be reading for pleasure: it was the academic passion that I used to have, the desire to dive into books that I wanted to read but ordinarily did not have the time or the discipline to read.

At Jewish Theological Seminary, I somewhat got away from that, and the same was true at Hebrew Union College.  Why?  I still did reading to research for papers, but it was usually articles, or the pieces of the books that I needed rather than the entire books.  Plus, I was taking so many language classes that took up a lot of my time (though, as I think back to my Harvard days, I wonder how I found the time to plow through all of those books that I read, while taking a full course-load of classes and also working at my work-study job).  But I did get that old feeling of excitement when a professor of mine at Hebrew Union College gave me a list of books to read for my comp on the Hebrew Bible.  And, as I prepared for my comps, I availed myself of the opportunity to read other books that I long wanted to read, but did not have the time to read, such as Julius Wellhausen's Prolegomena.

Nowadays, I read a lot.  I'd say that blogging has encouraged me to read, the same way that writing papers and preparing for comps were an impetus for me to read books in the past, for I can blog about what I read, and that can spice up my reading, as I look for interesting things to blog about.  But there are times when I prefer simply to enjoy the book, without offering my two-cents worth on it.

A More Interactive Church Service?

More than once, I have read evangelicals say that the church of the future will be more interactive: it won't have a congregation gathering together to sing a few hymns and listen to a speaker, but it will provide a format in which people will share with each other and be authentic.  Am I the only one who is scared by this?  For one, not everyone is talented at social interaction.  Second, I think that the sort of format that is supposedly the wave of the future can lead to cliques, as people gravitate to the people who express spiritual insights in a manner that resonates with them, while ignoring everyone else.

Of course, social interaction is area in which I should grow.  Even the current church provides opportunities for that, such as coffee hour, fellowship before the service, fellowship meals, or Bible study groups.  I attend some of these myself.  But I like the format of being able to go to a church service and to listen to a speaker without being judged over whether or not I meet people's standards of authenticity or spiritual profundity.  I hope that there will be others in the future who will support a traditional church service.  

Did Jonathan Edwards Have Asperger's?

In my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I wondered if Jonathan Edwards had Asperger's Syndrome.  Marsden does not speculate about this issue, but, as a person with Asperger's who has read some about the condition, I could identify with Edwards as Marsden was describing him.

Edwards essentially studied all day.  A lot of this took place in his personal study, but he also took solitary walks in nature.  And he was rather eccentric: whenever he had a thought while he was on one of his nature walks, he would pin a piece of paper to a specific part of his clothes, and he would associate that with his thought.  Then, when he got home, he would write the thought down.  In some cases, his clothes would be covered with a lot of these small pieces of paper.  Marsden wryly states that, for Edwards, "Fashionable appearance apparently was not a high priority" (page 136).

According to Marsden, Edwards did not make a lot of pastoral calls, for he was not adept at small talk and often was not in the mood to socialize, plus he wanted to devote more time to his studying and writing.  Edwards did, however, talk with parishioners in his study if they needed counsel.  Edwards also did not like to be distracted with the details of running his estate, and he left that job to his wife and servants.

Edwards was still able to make contacts, however.  Some of that appears to be because he had prominent relatives.  Edwards also impressed people, as when he gave a sermon defending human dependence on God against Arminianism (the view that people contribute something to their own salvation), which got some people's attention and was published.  And Edwards could find common cause with notable people who, like Edwards, sought to defend Calvinism in a logical manner.

Maybe Edwards had Asperger's.  Maybe he was simply an introvert, and one should remember that not all introverts have Asperger's.  But I could still identify with Edwards.  I myself would love to have a job where I am paid to study all day.  I am not good at small talk, and there are many times when I'm not in the mood to socialize (though socializing can be fun).  I don't like to be distracted by the details of everyday life----if I had a wife, I would probably let her handle the finances.  I used to enjoy taking long walks in solitude.  I try not to be unfashionable in how I dress, but fashion is not something I obsess over.  And, while I struggle to make contacts----even with people who share interests with me----it's a little easier for me to form contacts with people when I can find a common cause or interest with them (but that may be true of everyone).

What's interesting is that Edwards, in his solitude and introversion, could arrive at nuggets of wisdom that he could share with his congregation.  For example, Edwards preached a sermon about how God's people in the Bible often go through hard times before God delivers them, and, according to Edwards, that was to teach them to depend on God.  Have I, in my introversion, arrived at nuggets of wisdom?  Well, yes and no.  I feel that I can gain wisdom through interaction with people----wisdom about the things that I can do and say to make contacts, to get a job, to keep a job, etc.  But there is also something to be said for thinking deeply in solitude.

Psalm 102

For my weekly quiet time this week, I will blog about Psalm 102.  I have three items.

1.  The Psalmist talks about his personal depression, which appears to be leading him to physical sickness.  The Psalmist is lonely, and he is mocked by his enemies.  And yet, Psalm 102 goes beyond the Psalmist's personal suffering and talks about God's restoration of Zion, which entails God hearing the destitute and the nations fearing the LORD.  What do these two themes have to do with one another?  There have been different suggestions: that the Psalmist's personal suffering was misunderstood as a metaphor for the suffering of the nation, and thus the part about God restoring Zion was added; that two Psalms have been mixed together (I think that I encountered that view, but I may be mistaken); that the Psalmist moves from thinking about his own problems to contemplating God's renewal of Zion; and that the Psalmist is an exile who is describing his own problems as an exile, as well as the problems of his exiled nation (as Lamentations 3 focuses on the suffering individual, amidst a book that is about national suffering).

I think that the last solution makes the most sense.  And yet, I find it interesting that the superscription says (in the KJV), "A Prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed, and poureth out his complaint before the LORD."  It's like Psalm 102 was intended to be a Psalm for any afflicted person, not just one who was suffering exile.  But perhaps the idea behind the superscription is that the Psalmist believes that anyone who is suffering can hope that God's restoration of Zion will take care of one's own problems----the same way that there are many Christians today who look to the Second Coming of Christ as a time when Christ will end or restrain evil and suffering.  Or maybe the Psalmist is trying to comfort himself with the idea that, if God will restore Zion, then God is one who restores in general and thus will take pity on the Psalmist amidst his personal affliction.  Similarly, many Christians today look to God's love to Israel in the Hebrew Bible to convince themselves that God loves them personally.  They believe that God demonstrated to Israel God's character as one who is unconditionally loving, and that Christians can assure themselves that God is unconditionally loving to them, too.

2.  Another issue that I was thinking about when reading Psalm 102 was time.  We see short time and long time in Psalm 102.  In terms of short time, the Psalmist hopes that his deliverance will come soon.  He may even believe that God is already in the process of redeeming his nation, and yet God has not completed that process, for vv 13-22 contain verbs with perfect and imperfect tenses (but the KJV translates many of the perfects in the future tense).  Erhard Gerstenberger dates Psalm 102 to Israel's post-exilic period, a time when a number of Israelites were in their land because they had returned from exile, but they did not feel entirely redeemed, for they still had to deal with enemies and foreign powers.

In terms of long time, the Psalmist takes comfort in God's eternity, perhaps because God's eternity is assurance that God's plans will succeed.  The Psalmist also wants to preserve a message for future people, presumably about God's goodness, and, while the Psalmist fears in v 14 that God has shortened his (the Psalmist's) days, he affirms in v 28 that the children of God's servants will continue.  According to a note in the Jewish Study Bible, the Psalmist has doubts that he will live to see Zion's restoration, but he hopes that his children will see it.

The Psalmist may not have believed in a personal resurrection, and so I have to admire him for thinking about the well-being of future generations, even though he may have felt that he would probably die prematurely and thus not see the restoration.  I can't say that I am at that place spiritually, but people back then did have more of a communal mindset.  Sometimes, though, I think that it is a good idea for me to turn my mind away from myself and onto God's long-term cosmic plans.

3.  I listened to a good sermon on loneliness, which interacted with Psalm 102.  See here.  It was by Michael Phillips of Grace Baptist Church in Fremont, California.  I was in a fairly good (or at least placid) mood when I listened to that sermon, otherwise I probably would have been defensive and angry by some of the things that the preacher was saying.  Overall, though, I thought that he had some thought-provoking insights.  He said that trying to fit in and failing is better than not trying at all, for the latter leads to loneliness.  And he also said that we should look at ourselves to see where we may be at fault----are we unfriendly, for example? I'd say that these are good general guidelines.  Speaking for myself, though, I don't think I'm entirely convinced that being with people is better than being alone, for being around people can be stressful, plus I can get my feelings hurt.  And yet, like most people, I don't want to be lonely, for I want to be loved, valued, and affirmed, and maybe even to love, value, and affirm others.  It's a Catch-22.  One wants affirmation, but one doesn't necessarily get that around people.  And yet, one doesn't get it when one is not around people.

Aspies in the Church

On Rachel Held Evans' site, there is an excellent post by Erin Thomas on Embracing Faith As an Aspie.  The post is excellent, as were many of the comments.  But my favorite comment was by lainiep:

"As an aspie female myself, I resonate with a lot of what Erin has to say. One of the difficulties with Asperger's Syndrome is that it is often very difficult to find safe community. Ironically, this can be particularly difficult in churches that emphasize 'relationships,' 'transparency,' etc. For many people in these churches, someone who needs time to get to know others is clearly broken and in need of fixing.

"(An aspie is also vulnerable to abusers/bullies/power-trippers in churches who use the rhetoric of community.)

"Until churches are willing to acknowledge that genuine relationships take time to develop and stop expecting instant intimacy, aspies may have a difficult time finding a suitable worshiping community."

And Maddie_Faddenoid has a good response to that:

"I don't have aspergers but I'm introverted and I can relate to that so much. I went to a church that was all about 'relationships' and 'accountability' and I felt under a lot of pressure to share my biggest struggles and deepest vulnerabilities with people I wasn't totally comfortable with because I didn't know them very well at all. It was difficult. I was treated as if I had something wrong with me and it was hur[t]ful. The super-extroverted youth pastor just didn't get me at all and would leap to hurtful conclusions about me, my family, my upbringing and what he considered to be 'my issues' (none of his 'counsel' was solicited). It's horrible to have to justify who you cannot possibly help being when who you cannot possibly help being is treated as defective.  This was all in the name of relationships and accountability."

Thou Shalt Invest Deeply in Another Person

This will be a rambling post, so be forewarned!  At church this morning, the pastor was talking about witnessing.  He said that, by smiling at people, we show them that we care.

This was interesting, in light of things that I have been reading and listening to this week.  I listened to the Free Believers Network's podcast on Being a Person of Grace, and it touched on how consistently trying to be a nice, patient, make-no-waves sort of Christian is playing a role and actually can repel people from you.  One of the hosts told a story about a guy who was like that, and people never came to him for help with their problems, presumably because he did not seem real to them.

I also read Christian Piatt's posts on avoiding Christian cliches.  Click here to read the final post, which has links to the previous posts in the series.  My impression was that he was arguing that Christians should invest deeply in the lives of others rather than tossing at them Christian platitudes, which can come across as dismissive, condescending, simplistic, and lacking in insight.

Personally, when I hear people tell me that I should do this, or not do that, I'm not always sure about how I can carry out their instructions.  In public, of course I'm a nice, patient, make-no-waves sort of person!  Of course I'm playing a role!  I'm usually scared to be around people at the outset, so, yes, I lean on a role.  Perhaps I have even tossed out cliches because I'm not sure what to say in a particular situation.  And you know what?  I'm not particularly interested in investing deeply in the lives of others.  I have enough difficulties making friends, let alone developing deep community with other people.  Some may tell me that's evidence that I'm not a true Christian.  Oh well.  I am what I am, and I'm not about to assume that God beats me up on account of that.

That said, while I enjoyed the nuanced discussion on the podcast, and was guided by the Christian Piatt posts about what I perhaps shouldn't say to others (since saying socially-inappropriate things can be a problem I have), I appreciated the advice that my pastor offered this morning: smile at people.  Granted, there is enough cynicism in the world that some will take your smile to be phony.  But smiling at people is at least giving an indication that you are interested in them.  Then, maybe a relationship can develop.  Maybe you'll find that you'd actually like to invest deeply in that other person.  I find that to be a better approach than giving a "Thus saith the Lord" of "Thou shalt invest deeply in another person."  I mean, when I hear that command, I'm not sure what exactly I should be doing!

5/1/2012 Links

I have three links for today, focusing primarily on social skills and coping:

1.  Aspergers Girl has an excellent post on 20 things NOT to say to people with Asperger’s, and 15 beneficial approaches.  A lot of what she says can probably apply to how we approach people with other problems as well.  People who say some of the 20 things NOT to say are most likely trying to be helpful—-to offer the person with Asperger’s hope, to motivate the person with Asperger’s, or to demonstrate that they understand what the person with Asperger’s is going through.  But what they say can easily be construed as offensive.  If you want to be supportive, it’s better, as Aspergers Girl notes, to be willing to listen and to convey that you are there for the person with Asperger’s and will provide help that the person wants.

2.  Literary agent (for Rachel Held Evans and others) Rachelle Gardner talks about how you can be supportive to the writers in your family.  What I liked about her post was that it presented writing as (in a number of cases) a thankless job, which makes me feel better, since there are times when I wish that my writing were more appreciated!

3.  Yesterday, I linked to an interview with Temple Grandin.  Temple made two points that I found helpful.  First, she said that we should be willing to try new things, for how do we know if we’ll like them or not if we don’t try?  Second, Temple said that people get fired for getting mad on the job, but not for crying, and so there are times when she goes to a solitary place and just cries.

Newt Gingrich's Saving Lives & Saving Money 9

In my latest reading of Saving Lives & Saving Money: Transforming Health and Healthcare, Newt Gingrich talks about the living arrangements of people with disabilities.  On page 198, he states:

"...most families want to do as much as humanly and financially possible to enable their family members with a disability to live in their own home and participate in the community.  And, from the perspective of public policy, it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for our country to continue providing costly institutional care for people with disabilities as the number of people needing these services grows."

On pages 198-199, Newt quotes Carol Hughes-Novak, who was the chairperson of the Disabilities Task Force in Newt's district and whose son has cerebral palsy.  Carol believes in promoting "implementation of President Bush's Olmstead Executive Order that requires state Medicaid programs to provide long-term-care services in the community whenever appropriate for the individual."  (See here for information about the Olmstead Executive Order.)  Carol supports reversing the bias in Medicaid towards institutional care, as disabled people under Medicaid are entitled to placement in an institution, while those who prefer "Medicaid Home and Community based long-term care services that are more humane and almost always less costly" must wait for years.

This discussion stood out to me because of posts that I read on the blog, Whose Planet Is It Anyway, during the 2008 Presidential election.  According to those posts, John McCain supported institutional care for the disabled rather than integrating the disabled into their communities because he thought that the latter was too expensive, when (as the blog, Newt, and Carol point out) it is actually institutional care that is more expensive.  Those posts made me question that Republicans were truly on the side of fiscal responsibility.  It turns out, though, that people in both parties think that we should move away from institutional care and towards helping the disabled to integrate into their communities.  See here and here.

Asperger's Posts: Where to Go from Here

Today is the last day of National Autism Month for 2012!  On my WordPress blog, I’ve gained some new followers on account of my posts on The Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships, by Temple Grandin and Sean Barron.  In these posts, I highlighted aspects of the discussions in the book about Asperger’s, autism, and social skills, and I offered my own reactions, which were based in part on my experiences.

I’ve wondered what I should do when people follow me on account of my posts on particular topics, such as Asperger’s or works of fiction.  Should I continue to write posts about these topics to keep those followers, when, overall, I tend to focus on other topics, such as politics and religion?  I feel that, at least for myself, I should read more books on social skills, but I have other projects lined up for this year and the next, so I may not have the time to do so.  This year, I’m going through books on or by Presidential candidates for the 2012 election.  Next year, I may not even have special posts for Black History Month, Women’s History Month, and National Autism Month (as I usually do), and the reason is that January 9 will be the centennial of Nixon’s birthday, and I’m planning to blog through books about and by Nixon for the entirety of 2013 (and a little bit beyond that, depending on if I finish the books I plan to read in 2013).  Well, Nixon struggled socially, so maybe I can write posts on that to keep those who follow me for my posts on Asperger’s!

One thing that I could do is listen to presentations on Asperger’s on YouTube while I’m reading or writing, and post some of them here, along with some commentary.  I listened to an interview with Temple Grandin today (see here).  I happen to enjoy listening to Temple talk, since she is articulate and her presentation is often orderly.  Plus, she has interesting things to say.  Perhaps I could make a regular practice of blogging about such interviews, forums, and presentations, as well as keep my eyes open for any articles on Asperger’s (or even social skills) that I may find helpful.  I doubt that I’ll write on Asperger’s or social skills every single day, but once a week may be feasible.  I do try to write a third post on some days about a topic that interests me, in addition to my posts about my readings.

The Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships 29

I finished The Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships. In this post, I'll highlight something that Temple Grandin says on page 378, about why she takes medication:

"Not everybody needs medication but I am one of those who do. For me, socialization is impossible if I constantly feel like I'm being attacked by a lion."

I am not that afraid, but I have felt social anxiety, largely because I don't know what to say to people, or I am self-conscious about making a mistake, or I fear being looked at like I'm some sort of freak (which happens). When others ask me questions and are interested in my response, then that anxiety may go down a bit. But how can I make my anxiety go down? One thing a counselor told me was that, as I listen to others attentively, I become more relaxed. Then, I can share some things about myself. For me, the challenge is to find open-ended questions that can enable me to invite others to share about themselves.

Tomorrow is the last day of National Autism Month. I'll post something. Stay tuned!