Wanna Go Outside and Play?

Dallas Willard once said, "Play is the creation of value that is not necessary." 

I suspect playing together is the essence of pure friendship  –  “wasting time” together creating unnecessary value.

Of course, play is a broad idea. There’s the play of children, but there’s also the play of humor, the play of adventure and exploring. And all play can be intellectual as well as embodied. I’ve had many a strong intellectual discussion that I would rank up there with the best of play.

The thing is that whatever it involves – conversation, sports, cooking, laser tag, goofing off – something becomes play when it transcends the utilitarian. Play is not concerned with usefulness (though that may result) or practicality.

Play is captivated with delight.

That’s what it’s aiming for. And while nutritional needs may be met, and health advanced, and many other good things may result (because good always bears a surplus fruit), sheer delight is enough for play.

I think God loves to play. I have a suspicion it may be a part of everything he does. Embracing delight and throwing it out upon us with open arms.

We aren’t necessary, after all. Daffodils aren’t. Dandelions certainly aren’t. Sparrows aren’t, and neither are lilies.

But here we are, valued by God beyond what we can comprehend. Each and every one of us uniquely his favorite. Christ came to be with us and called us his friends.

I suspect it’s our own wills and the designs of the evil one and the brokenness of the world that rob us of delight, replacing it with simple duty…obligation…service…work… drudgery…suffering…depression.

Those things are all a part of this life, but they dare not become the point. They need to be redeemed and transformed by delight, by “the creation of value that is not necessary.”

It’s delight that opens us up to more. More than the necessary. More than just being faithful. More than enduring.

There is no love without delight, without more than is necessary. Without play.

It’s delight that fills us up for work, service, suffering. And delight that brings us back to ourselves (and others) when they have exhausted us. Delight is bigger than they are.

Maybe the most spiritual thing we can do is play. Whole-heartedly, unreservedly.

Maybe that’s an essential part of what the kingdom of God looks like, and of what it means to live into his kingdom today. Now. In the midst of all the mess.

Do you wanna go outside and play?

Why I’m Actually More Southern Since I Moved North

The redbuds in bloom at my folks' place this spring.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been Southern. But that doesn’t mean I always fit in down South, because that certainly wasn’t the case. I asked too many questions about the “wrong” things. It too rarely occurred to me to be intimidated (or quiet).

A friend sent me a quote from Reese Witherspoon recently: "Being a Southern person and a blonde, it's not a good combination. Immediately, when people meet you, they think of you as not being smart." 

I was too ornery to be willing to fit in (actually, there were years where the idea of “fitting in” just appalled me). I wanted to be accepted – loved – for who I was (who doesn’t?), not for how much I was willing to pretend to be something else. To me, that “love” earned by pretending just wasn’t worth it. 

Thankfully, the orneriness got (mostly) sanded down. I started to learn that it was okay if who I was happened to fit in, and it was even good if not quite fitting in made me look at myself honestly and be willing to bend and grow. And I discovered the joy of being flexible in all the stuff that isn’t at the core of who I am. (I’m still growing in that one!)

But it wasn’t until I moved to Chicagoland that I started to really recognize what is at the core of who I am, and what it is for me to be Southern, in my own unique way. 

I started to realize how deep that “Come on, have some more tea and sit a spell” instinct for comfortable hospitality runs. I started to recognize the welcome of being flexible to be really open to the other. And I started to know the joy of sharing some of my culture – most of which I’d never realized was culture – with those around me. 

There are things you don’t appreciate until they’re hard to find. I’d barely thought about what made barbeque barbeque (and good) until I couldn’t seem to find any. And making great biscuits was much less of a priority when I could get great ones at most any corner diner.

The trappings matter more when suddenly they’re not so common.

But they matter even more for what they express. A generous warmth and welcome. Taking your time to give something personal. Making friends (and strangers) part of the family. Noticing the best that's around you...not over-complicating things...taking your time...getting it just right...and most of all, savoring every morsel of life and being grateful.

Seven Dead Giveaways that I’m Not in the South…

1. Professional Sports. People are really passionate about the Bears up here, and the Cubs or White Sox (never both), but I rarely hear about college games and even less about high school. Down South, those are what really matter.
 

2. Casual church. It’s rare for me to spot a tie on Sunday. Or heels (other than on me). Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that people don’t feel like they have to dress up for church, but does nobody (else) feel like dressing up a bit is actually an expression of who they are?
 
3. Real butter. It’s on your table in restaurants. I have never understood the South’s obsession with margarine. 

4. Special Lenten Menus. Even Chick-fil-A is offering a “fresh cod” sandwich on Fridays up here. It’s very disorienting. 

 
5. Wedding Receptions. I’ve yet to go to one up here that’s not a full dinner reception. Down South, all the receptions I attended were cake receptions. The only dinner reception I’d been to of before I moved up here was for a friend whose family were transplants from Jersey.
 
6. The Iced Tea. One word…blech!
 
7. Snow on Easter. Sigh. Maybe it will make some of the trees look like they are in bloom. I MISS DOGWOODS!

A Different Kind of Valentine

This post is part of the February Synchroblog, "Cross Gender Friendships." I will list the links to all the contributing blogs at the end of this post as soon as they are available.

As we approach Valentine’s Day this week, I’d like to take the opportunity to celebrate something different. Friendship.

Friendship between men and women in particular.

This is something that came up recently on my favorite podcast. Pop Culture Happy Hour consists of delightful quartet of NPR employees who spend an hour each week geeking out over the vagaries and intricacies of movies, television, theater, comic books, music, and books.

Linda Holmes and Stephen Thompson are two members of the PCHH crew who clearly have a close relationship. They go to movies together, hang out watching TV together, and clearly influence each other’s tastes and lives. Words like besties and best pal come up, and Linda has been referred to as “Aunt Linda” in relation to Stephen’s children.

So, of course, when the PCHH gang dedicated part of a recent show to answering Frequently Asked Questions once and for all, one that had to be addressed was “When are Stephen and Linda going to get married?”

Part of me wanted to cry. Part of me wanted to laugh. Pretty much all of me wanted to beat my head against the wall of social expectation reflected in that question.

But what I actually did was cheer. 

Because one friendship at a time, friends are making themselves known. Friendship between men and women doesn't feel as though it should be that big of a deal to those of us who enjoy it. Our friends are a natural part of our lives, and it feels odd that we should need to justify or defend that. But so often our society demands that we do just that. And it's weird to do. As Linda said in response to fan sentiment, "I have cousins it would feel less weird [to think about making out with]."

But the questions keep coming because, it would seem, for many (most?) people the idea of a woman and a man being friends without sex or romance in the picture is just hard to imagine. And social "science" doesn't help. Studies reveal the presence of attraction between men and women who are "just friends."

This was hardly news to me. I've had many male friends throughout my life, some of them quite close, and I've never not been attracted to one of them. There are all kinds of different things about them that have attracted me. There's a reason we're friends, a reason I wanted to spend time with them, to talk with them, to know them more. Attraction is always a part of friendship. It's just that when it comes to men and women, we are conditioned to associate any attraction at all with sexual interest.

And it's just not necessarily so. Sure, attraction can go there, but it doesn't have to. And grasping that, living into the reality of it, is the single biggest step I know of toward valuing people for who they are rather than what they can do for us. It's humanizing rather than objectifying.

In comments on a study being reported as raising questions regarding the validity of friendship between men and women, Linda Holmes writes: 

"Now, I will make a confession: I have very little patience for this debate under normal circumstances, because my male friends include straight guys, gay guys, married guys, single guys, flirty guys, not-at-all-flirty guys, and yes, even the odd guy I've dated here and there. (Exes are a much more controversial question in my experience, and, I admit, a trickier proposition, but it absolutely happens.) But I am always willing to listen to research. If it turns out that I am not actually friends with any of them, that would be sad, because I would have to return a lot of dudes to the Friends 'R' Us store at once, and that would be very disruptive socially. On the other hand, they're worth quite a lot, so I'm sure I'd get good trade-in value."

I love her humor, but I love the reality that underlies it even more. The problem with the research is that it reflects what people think about themselves and their friends. And how we think about ourselves and those around us is largely shaped by cultural conditioning and social expectations (Freud anyone?).

Which is why I'm so happy Linda and Stephen are out there with their friendship, letting us get to know them a little. The more real friendships that we see in the culture, the more our imaginations can be open to the possibilities between men and women that aren't determined by sex.

So, in honor of Valentine’s Day, I’d like to propose a toast:

Here’s to Stephen and Linda!

And to Hermione and Harry!

And to Rocky and Marie!

And to Olivia (Benson) and Eliot (Stabler)!

And to Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein!

And to Don Draper and Peggy Olson!

And to my friend, Dan, who is committed to living a different story!

(And even to Harry and Sally: I’m glad you found each other and wish you every happiness, but leave the rest of us our friends!)

Happy Valentine’s Day to you all!

  

If you’re interested in thinking about how friendship between men and women might be possible – close, trusting, solid friendship – consider making your way to the Chicago area the last weekend in April for the Sacred Friendship Gathering, “Bold Boundaries: Expanding Friendship Between Men and Women.”

Others posting blogs on Cross Gender Friendship include:

Chris Jefferies – Best of both
Jeremy Myers – Are Cross-Gender Friendships Possible
Lynne Tait – Little Boxes
Dan Brennan – Cross-Gender Friendship: Jesus and the Post-Romantic Age
Glenn Hager – Sluts and Horndogs
Alise Wright - What I get from my cross-gender friend
Liz Dyer – Cross-Gender Friendships and the Church
Paul Sims – Navigating the murky water of cross-gender friendships
Jonalyn Fincher – Why I Don’t Give out Sex like Gold Star Stickers
Amy Martin – Friendship: The most powerful force against patriarchy, sexism, and other misunderstands about people who happen to not be us, in this case, between men & women
Maria Kettleson Anderson - Myth and Reality: Cross-Gender Friendships
Bram Cools - Nothing More Natural Than Cross-Gender Friendships?
Hugo Schwyzer – Feelings Aren’t Facts: Living Out Friendship Between Men and Women
Marta Layton – True Friendship: Two Bodies, One Soul
Kathy Escobar – The Road To Equality Is Paved With Friendship
Karl Wheeler – Friends at First Sight
Doreen Mannion - Hetereosexual, Platonic Cross-Gender Friendships–Learning from Gay & Lesbian Christians
Jim Henderson – Jesus Had A Thing for Women and So Do I
Elizabeth Chapin – 50 Shades of Friendship
D. L. Webster – Expressing Love Outside of Romance

Tonight’s Southern Ex-Pat Dilemma

I grew up in Tennessee, land of gaudy white and orange conversion vans, trucks, boats, flags, Christmas lights, and on and on. This is Vols country. That’s for “Volunteers,” the state nickname and the University of Tennessee sports teams. Tennesseans earned that particular moniker by volunteering to go found Texas (something I *love* to tell Texans with particularly big egos). Orange and white are the schools colors.

When I ran for a law firm, the male attorneys were always very particular about the ties they wore when they were appearing in court. They had some classy ties and would spend a good amount of time picking out the “right” one to wear to court.

Except of game day, when they wore the most awful, screamingly hideous orange ties you have ever (hopefully not) laid eyes on.

This was SEC country, where football is near ‘bout the most serious business there is.

But unless the Vols ever play the Bears, today brings the most serious sports-related dilemma I will face as a Southerner in Chicagoland. Notre Dame is playing Alabama tonight. The Fighting Irish vs. the Crimson Tide (the team names have always made me wonder which institution actually has the more religious roots – I think I’d hazard a bet that more Alabama than Notre Dame alumni actually attend church each week).

Don’t misunderstand, I don’t really follow football. I can count the number of complete football games I’ve watched without using all my fingers. I go to Super Bowl parties for the food and the commercials.

Knute and the Gipper

But I can still remember watching Knute Rockne, All American on my grandmother’s little black and white bedroom television - "Win one for the Gipper!" And I got the message – Notre Dame football was something special. There was something quintessentially American about it. Even as a kid, I loved the historical and sentimental resonance. And when I heard the Dallas Cowboys referred to as “America’s Team,” I knew that was just hype. America’s team was always really going to be Notre Dame.

That conviction followed from a somewhat-uniquely Southern bias – professional sports don’t really count. It’s college sports that really count (and to an only sometimes lesser extent, high school). Whether it was basketball in North Carolina or football in Tennessee, there was never any question what really mattered.

Growing up in Tennessee, the SEC is our royalty. I don’t watch football, and even I got excited when I recognized that stream of coaches in Blindside. Nobody had to tell me it was really them. Chattanooga sits right on the Tennessee-Georgia-Alabama state lines, so even though we were in Vols-country, I knew those rivalries. Particular the one with Bama.

And one thing living up North has taught me is that rivals have kinship, particularly when you’re surrounded by people who don’t really get what the big deal is.

So here’s my dilemma, do I side with my Tennessee friends and root for Notre Dame? Or do I side with the South and root for the Tide (that’ll be a first)?

As an aside, I only wish “Go, Vols!” had the kind of cultural weight and linguistic flexibility that “Roll Tide!” has.  “Roll Tide” is an appropriate response in near any situation.

Greeting your neighbor as you get in your car to head to work in the morning:

“Roll Tide!”

Translation: “Morning! Have a good day!”

On hearing a friend has just lost his job:

“Oh, man! Roll Tide.”

Translation: “That’s bad, but you’re gonna beat it.”

On the successful completion of a marathon:

“ROLL TIDE!!!!”

Translation: “Alright!!!! You did it!!!!”

On hearing the news that grandpa just died:

“Roll Tide.”

Translation: “He lived a good life and we’ll sure miss him.”

And so on…