Interpretative Labeling

Southerners are their own group when it comes to talking. No one can talk quite like a Southerner, especially a Northern actor playing a Southerner, and that's not even beginning to touch any actor not from New Orleans playing someone from Nawlins. In addition to just our drawl and accents, we have two more bad linguistic points.

One, we believe it to be our right to mispronounce ANYTHING, except you'd better not mispronounce our names/labels. In my home town of Biloxi (it's Bill-uh-xe, not Bill-ox-e) we had Reynoir (pardon my french pronuciation attempt, rin-waa) which we pronounce rain-are, Caillavett (kaileevette) or Ki-vet, and used to have both Beauvoir (Bo-vo-ah) and Buena Vista (bu-ee-na vees-ta) meaning beautiful view that are massacred into Bovore and Beuna Vista. The picture here is looking down what is now known as the Vieux Marche (pronounced view mar-shay, though not in its native french), and another oddity is Point Cadet (pronounced Point Caddy). I can speak these much better then I can ever type them.

The second is our phrases, such as naked (pronounced nekkid) as a jaybird (nude), flat-out (meaning as fast as you can), 'bout as much chance as a kerosene cat in hell with gasoline drawers on (not going to happen), and others. In fact, I was 14 before I found out that damn Yankee was two words.

Our churches are no different. During the War Between the States the Baptists and Methodists split. Afterwards the Methodists rejoined, giving us the United Methodists, but we Baptists, ever the free-spirited, remain split. Interestingly though, both Baptists and Southern Baptists tend to agree on a few linguistic choices. Once we outgrow our sanctuary and build a newer bigger building we call the old sanctuary the "Fellowship Hall." Oftentimes it is surrounded or borders our Family Life Building (Recreation Hall), which in turn contains our MPR or Multi-Purpose Room (gym). We have an altar (stairs to the stage) at the front of the sanctuary, and we share (gossip) in Sunday School. Well, not share as much as we ask prayer for others because they are...(list gossip-worthy transgressions here). While we don't subscribe to concept of transmogrification, we do believe in partial transmogrification because we use grape juice (wine) when we have the Lord's Supper (Communion). I'm not entirely serious when I say that the Baptist word for sprinkler is Methodist, but a more serious definition is that we call dance interpretative movement.

That is a little simplistic of course, because as Baptist we feel dance is wrong, but interpretive movement is fine. Problem is, it's the same thing. And while anyone who is not a believer may look at this point (or this whole post) and say that it is a perfect example of the non-logic and therefore proof (though the two are not the same thing) of the errors in organized religions, I present that this is merely one of those "small points" rather than a larger truth that churches can argue over. Certain concepts are not to be argued over, but the finer distinctions between denominations (like dance) are open game.

Jesus never said not to dance, but our modern-day legalism believes dancing can lead to sinning with the whole 'vertical expression of a horizontal desire' reasoning. It's a gateway activity. While I don't kid myself into thinking that the Baptist church will one day accept with open arms dance, calling it anything other than interpretive movement, or even remove it from the list of don'ts, it does seem to gain traction as an activity each year. It remains one of those areas open for argument, or discussion if you prefer. Not quite on the level with the full immersion versus sprinkling concept, but open nonetheless. 

Specks and Beams

One thing that used to bother me in reading the Old Testament is that the Israelites kept switching from following God to the gods of the day, Baal, Ashtoreth, and others. Another typical reaction, other than "Why?" is that as they turned from God they started going downhill. Soon, they realized it, turned back, and He blessed them all over again. In many ways reading some of the books of the Bible are like watching a scary movie. We find ourselves screaming at the screen saying, "Look behind you! Have you never seen a scary movie?"

Typically speaking, we gloss over the law especially as it relates to the part of the law we no longer practice. Sacrifice a bull for this, a goat for that, two birds for this. Only clean animals without blemish, sprinkle the blood here, burn the fat there. When you start to think about what the temple looked like, it had to be a bloody, sticky, gooey mess. And the tabernacle was a bloody, sticky, gooey, portable mess. It was like a slaughterhouse floor at times. The gods that the Israelites periodically switched to follow had similar rituals. They had graven images, idols, statutes and didn't care if the animals were clean, unclean, or human, but their altars were just as bloody, sticky, gooey and all around messy.

There are some places in the world where no matter what religion you follow, or even if you don't follow one, just seem to exude holiness. Granted, some more than others. The Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem is one. Any of the medieval cathedrals, and many of the cathedrals in the US demand respect. You don't walk in and sit down talking on their cell phone. Even if you don't follow that denomination there is a hushed reverence, like a library on steroids. This is more so in the highly organized or structured denominations/religions. And yes, some has to do with what you believe in. A Catholic in a cathedral is more reverent than a Baptist. Daddy Byrd, when he worked at the Church of the Redeemer, would bow toward the altar when he crossed the nave of the church, even when he was working. To a lesser degree, that is why I can't text or Twitter in our sanctuary while the pastor preaches (I can do it at services in the MPR-Baptist for gym).

So, when you add up reverent location with similar looking, smelling, and feeling it was not that large a leap for the Israelites to switch. Some of those coming to sacrifice may not have even realized the difference. It still looked like the tabernacle or temple, it still smelled the same, it felt the same, the priests were the same, what was that new statue on the way out again?

It is often easier to see the mistakes of others than it is to see our own. We rail against the Israelites while we read not realizing the ease with which something can be substituted until the original is no longer there. Subtle changes that taken in part are not much different but taken holistically have the opportunity to completely change the context of the subject matter. Perhaps we are too hard on the Israelites. Hundreds of years of slinging fat and blood against the altar they may not have realized how far off they were straying. Have we strayed in our religious practices, too? The answer is probably not what you first think, but if you honestly evaluate it, the beam in our eyes interferes with us seeing the Israelites' specks.