New Friend

Technorati Tags: Butz Choquin, Cybele, pipes

Removing the Label

Tonight I'm enjoying something that I've neglected for far too long. I'm sitting on my deck enjoying a little something that I picked up in London to commemorate my graduation - a new pipe, specifically a Butz Choquin Cybele, if you're interested in such things, a horn-shaped pipe with some really stunning hardwood inlay in front of the stem. This is my maiden voyage with this particular piece of briar, and it's doing quite admirably. It's smoking a bit hot, though, because I'm trying some Rattray's Hal o' the Wynd that's a bit too dry for my liking. It's an older tin that I should just pitch, but I can't seem to bring myself to do so. The problem, though, is that if I don't, I might damage the pipe - it's too dry to smoke at a safe temperature, instead burning hot which carries the risk of damaging the briar in the pipe.

 I've simultaneously been catching up on my blogosphere reading. I'm woefully behind thanks to my recent blog fast - I think I need to just hit reset on the reader and start fresh. But I'm glad I caught a post from James tonight, because it echoes a lot of what I've been thinking of late. James writes this:

It was one of those moments like the first time you look in the mirror and realize that you are no longer 18 years old and in shape. Your mind may try to convince you that you are still in your prime but the mirror reveals that uncomfortable reality. Similarly, I have always seen myself as somewhat "conservative." But during the conversation with Balmer I realized that I have convictions and beliefs that are firmly outside the conservative label. It was like scales fell off my eyes and I began to see for the first time that there is a large group of self identified Christians who would exclude me from their camp because of the views I have of the Christian faith. In fact, there are some who would not even think my views are Christian at all.

This, I think, describes exactly how I've begun to feel over the past year or so. I've come a long way, in my opinion, in my understanding of many things - the gospel, the nature of scripture, the nature of the church, and the way in which my theology informs my politics. And, on so many of these items, I find myself in an awkward position. Because of my commitment to some quite conservative positions, such as the authority of scripture and the confession of Christ as Lord, I can no longer hold to many of the conclusions that conservative theology advances. I take seriously, for example, that Jesus actually intends for us to love our enemies and, consequently, I've become convinced that I can no longer support conservative positions on war. I take seriously, likewise, the authority of scripture and, consequently, I'm left dissatisfied with many conservative articulations of what I take to be extra-biblical statements about those same scriptures. I could go on - my point, however, is less the particular doctrines and more that a commitment to certain conservative positions results in undermining much of the remaining structure. This, at the end of the day, is what troubles me the most.

I mentioned in my previous post that I was reading a book by Peter Enns called Inspiration and Incarnation: Evangelicals and the Problem of the Old Testament. My initial thought was that I was surprised that it hasn't garnered more attention in the blogosphere - it's a fantastic read thus far that I think many who identify with the emerging church would profit from reading. However, as I began to dig a bit, I found that I'm simply not reading the blogs that have discussed it. There's actually been a fair amount of interaction with it, and not all of it supportive, to put things mildly. Mark, a fellow contributor to meremission.org (where I need to actually contribute, I've been thinking ;) has interacted with some of the criticism, much of which has been rather disappointing, to say the least. But I mention this because one thing that I keep reading is that Enns's proposals are not "conservative" - which, I suppose, is to label him as one of those evil "liberals" and thus avoid interacting with what he actually says. Ironically, his book is based on premises with which no conservative would ever argue - the authority and inspiration of scripture. But because the conclusions that he reaches based precisely on those premises are not in keeping with what the gatekeepers of orthodoxy have deemed acceptable, his book is maligned and condemned.

So I find myself in a position where I've been trying to wear a label that really has begun to chafe. I can't stand having to apologize for it or nuance it enough that it fits who I find that I've become. My friend Scott wrote some time ago about something similar - I find that, like him, like James, perhaps it's time to remove the label.

I've put my pipe down for this evening. The pipe performed excellently; however, if I continue, the bad tobacco will ruin it. I'm reminded of an old adage about old tobacco and new pipes - or was that old wine and new wineskins? I think either serves to make the point. Perhaps it's time to move on.

A Spirituality of Briar

I really wanted to write something on the Emergent response to critics, which I thought was quite well done, but in truth I just spent a bit of time reading through some of the responses to the response and now I'm just tired. (If you haven't read it and care to do so, head to the emergent-us blog. It's well worth a read, if you're interested in the emerging church.) So more on that tomorrow. Instead, I'm going to pick up something I mentioned in an earlier post and talk about pipes for just a minute. Here's a quick disclaimer - I'm not really interested in talking about the dangers of tobacco, or second-hand smoke, or healthy living. Just putting that on the table. If you're interested in that sort of thing, there are many places to discuss it. I'm not trying to be rude; in fact, I've never said this about a post before, and it makes me rather uncomfortable to do so, but there can be particularly strong opinions on this topic, so I'm just setting some boundaries up front for my own sanity. My apologies for the string of independent clauses, but there it is.

I'm not really what you'd call a "smoker" in the true sense of the word. I enjoy a good pipe about once a month or so. It pops in and out of my writing because the two seem to go together, but in truth it's somewhat of a rare indulgence. To me, it's sort of like fine wine - I consider good wine to be privilege, and I keep it as such by enjoying it only occasionally. It's an avoidance of the contempt of the familiar and all that.

Two things come to mind when I pick up my pipe: conversation and contemplation. Some of my closest friends also enjoy pipes, so our occasional gatherings typically include breaking out the briar. On the other hand, I also find a pipe to be the perfect accompaniment to reflection, contemplation, and yes, even prayer.

Here is the one thing you must know about pipes in order to understand what I mean: it is impossible, or at least incredibly difficult, to smoke a pipe quickly. You can do it, but it ruins the smoke and possibly the pipe as the tobacco will burn too hot and char the briar. There is a method to pipe smoking that is in some sense ritual. One doesn't simply light up. First, the proper tobacco must be selected - this alone can be a dizzying matter, because the range is simply staggering. (Myself, I'm partial to McClelland's Blackwoods Flake or St. James Woods, if you were wondering.) Then the pipe must be packed properly and lit carefully. This is critical to a quality smoke - too loose and the pipe will burn hot, too dense and it will not burn at all. As to the smoke itself, well, one does not "puff" a pipe. A pipe is smoked slowly and carefully, maintaining an even burn and allowing the flavors to develop. It's more like sipping than gulping. When done properly, the reward is (assuming a quality tobacco and pipe) a complex, flavorful smoke that puts the finest cigar to shame (imho).

I think the reason that I gravitate towards pipes is perhaps the same reason that they've fallen out of favor. As I said before, one does not simply light up. Smoking a pipe means to slow down, to take care, to pause. This is why I favor it when I am in need of contemplation. Lighting my pipe is a sort of centering process for me, an opportunity to deliberately slow my pace. Smoking it is a sort of metronome, so to speak. It is something that keeps my mind from racing ahead of itself, allowing me to pause to listen and reflect. Some of my best writing comes out of these times, as well as my best prayer.