I read about this quiz over at Widening Circles and decided to take it myself. It’s called “What’s Your Theological Worldview”. I really should mention that I had no idea how to answer some of the questions, so took my best guess or simply chose the middle of the road. Here are the results.
|
You scored as Emergent/Postmodern in
your theology. You feel alienated from
older forms of church, you don’t think
they connect to modern culture very well.
No one knows the whole truth about God,
and we have much to learn from each other,
and so learning takes place in dialogue.
Evangelism should take place in
relationships rather than through crusades
and alter-calls. People are interested in
spirituality and want to ask questions, so
the church should help them do this.
| Emergent/Postmodern |
|
86% |
| Roman Catholic |
|
71% |
| Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan |
|
68% |
| Neo orthodox |
|
64% |
| Classical Liberal |
|
57% |
| Modern Liberal |
|
54% |
| Reformed Evangelical |
|
32% |
| Charismatic/Pentecostal |
|
29% |
| Fundamentalist |
|
0% |
|
What’s your theological worldview?
created with QuizFarm.com
I doubt the accuracy about these sorts of things, as any intelligent person would have to, but it is interesting. Of course, I do not feel alienated from older forms of church; I think the Anglican tradition is fairly old. What’s with the fairly high percentage in favor of the Catholics? I’ve got nothing against them, but other than the liturgy part have not had any leanings in that direction that I’m aware of. Hummm, this is all very interesting. The best part of these results is knowing that all traces of fundamentalism in me are now completely eradicated. That is a serious relief! I don’t even know what some of these categories mean, and who is the guy in the photo anyway? (If anyone knows, be sure to tell me!)
Loving Spirit, loving Spirit,
you have chosen me to be;
you have drawn me to your wonder,
you have set your sign on me.
(p.742 Wonder Love and Praise, Shirley Erena Murray, 1987 The Hymn Society)
These words really spoke to me when we sang this hymn yesterday in church. (Really the whole hymn really spoke to me, but I hesitate to copy it here in it’s entirety since it is copyrighted.) I have often felt that I am indeed ‘marked’ in some way; that God’s sign is upon me and that even if I wanted to, which I do not, I could not escape my destiny of relationship with God through Christ. Even at the very worst times in my life, in despair and in willful sin, I still cried out to God. I don’t think I could be any other way. Without God, without the ever deepening relationship that I have with God, I would be as a fish thrown upon the sand flapping about until I died. Why is this so? It is a mystery for which I have no answer, but know only to be grateful for it’s reality.
I am a woman.
This may be a rather obvious statement, but it is a fact that I find myself thinking more about lately than I have before. I’m comfortable in my womanhood, at least I’ve never regretted the fact or wished I was something different. I believe that women should have equal rights in both church and state and I admire those who fought for it, and are still fighting for it, but I have never been much of an activist myself. For much of my life I found feminists with outspoken views to be irritating, at best.
I had certainly never considered that the fact that I am a woman has any bearing whatsoever upon my spirituality. At times I have had difficulty relating to a “male” God, but I have understood for a long time that God is really neither male nor female even if the church at large promotes the male image. Inclusive language, when it comes to referring to God, is interesting but I’ve seldom felt the need to use such language myself. So it came as a surprise to me when on Tuesday evening of Holy Week I found myself praying to “Mother” rather than to “Father”; I mean that I actually felt compelled to do this. Then the next day I had the experience of a uniquely female “God presence” visiting me. (This is described in Lenten Journey: Part 5.) This experience was so moving that I could not help but cry, even if I didn’t understand it.
I still don’t understand, but I do know now that this was a sort of turning point for me. I can’t quite explain it but something within me has shifted and I find myself constantly looking for this “Mother God” whom I have not previously known. I find myself wondering how the fact that I am a woman affects, or can affect, my own spirituality. I vacillate between being excited and horrified; excited that there is a whole other aspect or “person” of God that I am beginning to discover and horrified that somehow I have been mislead and am making a terrible mistake in pursuing this.
I read The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd at the suggestion of Gail. It’s an excellent book; I could scarcely put it down once I’d started it. The author relates her own journey into the Sacred Feminine, and it’s quite a fascinating journey. The reading has raised many more questions in my mind. I think that Kidd has taken this all a bit too far, but this is a valuable book and one that I’ll be re-reading and pondering for a long time. Doing a web-search on “Sacred Feminine” has proven to be less fruitful (there’s a lot of pretty flaky stuff out there), but I did find a blog that I’ve enjoyed reading of late. I don’t even know what I agree or disagree with of what I read; I only know that I am intrigued and that something of all this resonates deep within me as being very possibly right.
The air is thick,
Heavy with unshed tears,
As buried thoughts
Seek the light of day.
It’s hard to breathe
Such humid air,
Yet even as I long for relief,
I realize that it’s often a storm
That breaks the thick fog of humidity,
Bringing blessed relief.
Can I survive another storm,
I wonder,
Or will the lightening split my sky
Wide open?
Perhaps the wind will tear me to pieces;
Littering scraps of my life,
Like leaves to be picked up from the yard.
I try to take shelter,
Going inside and closing the doors and windows,
But I cannot remain there.
The storm draws me outside
Into it’s midst.
I feel the wind whip about me,
And sharp drops of rain begin to sting my face.
The storm excites me,
It terrifies me,
It shakes me into awareness
Of my vulnerability.
I don’t want to stand out in the storm,
It’s fury is just beginning and bound to get worse,
But the door has locked behind me
And I’ve left the key inside.
I have been presented with a challenge that I simply must accept. Rachel has tagged me for this thing called a meme. So….here goes! (BTW thanks Rachel.)
The rules are: People who are tagged start by thinking about 7 random facts/habits about themselves. Each player then must write about those seven things on their blog, as well as include these rules. Players then need to choose 7 people to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to leave each person a comment telling them they’ve been tagged.
1. I hate tap water, well water, and pretty much any water that’s not bottled.
2. I’m sort of hooked on this online computer game called Word Link. I figure if I play it enough I might even get really good at it.
3. My all time favorite author is Madeleine L’Engle.
4. I’m definately not a morning person. If I could go to work at 10 am I’d be a happy lady!
5. I dream of traveling to Ireland one day.
6. I hate to go to weddings. I don’t know why; I just do.
7. I can’t sleep without the sound of the fan, air purifier, or humidifier. Whichever one is running at night depends on the season.
8. I buy quite a bit of my clothing at Goodwill and Salvation Army Thrift Stores. I really enjoy a piece of clothing the most when I know I got it cheap.
9. I take my own shopping bags to the grocery store; it’s good for the earth.
10. I love trees. I’m positive that there’s a forest in heaven.
I don’t know 7 people to tag, so this will have to do. Gail Christy
Sometimes I just feel like huddling in a corner with a blanket over my head for no particular reason. I’m tired of thinking and thinking about what I think, and don’t know what to make of lots of things and for some reason this bothers me so…..it’s just easier to hide.
The problem is though, that hiding very quickly becomes a habit. A habit that is not noticed at first, not cared about for a while, but eventually I wake up and realize that little by little this habit is killing me. Ah, it’s so much easier to sleep, but I choose life. And life cannot be lived under a blanket.
Rise up, O woman,
Throw off your blanket of shame!
The Light has come,
Now live again!
