Greeks and Christians

Yesterday one of the fifth grade teachers, clad in a bedsheet toga, stopped in to the library. She was recruiting people to come and listen to her students give individual presentations about Ancient Greece. So I went over to the classroom pod, where the kids were each standing separately at their own desk or table. You'd approach a table, push a paper "button" and the kid would give their spiel about doric columns or Greek temples or, in one case, the Gordian Knot.

In most cases it was just a matter of listening and then asking the kid a question or two. But one girl focused on Ancient Greek clothing, and gave a long, mumbling description of tunics of varying lengths and styles for men and women. On top of the mumbling, she had an accent and there was a lot of noise in the room, and I was only getting about every tenth word. Then, at the end, she said, "And now for a quiz!" She turned her presentation sheet over and asked me a series of questions, none of which I could answer.

"Did you tell her why?" Dave said later, when I related this story. I admitted that no, I hadn't told her why. I'd just made a joke about it and sort of shrugged it off. But I guess there was a teachable moment there about speaking clearly (and maybe being considerate of the waning hearing of those of us on the upper end of the age spectrum).

This is why Dave is a teacher and I am not.

Several plastic tool boxes appeared mysteriously next to our garbage bins on Monday. I thought one of the workmen on one of the never-ending house renovation projects along our street might have dumped them. But then last night there was a power saw sitting out there too. I think Mr. Russia must be winnowing his no doubt vast (and noisy) collection of tools. Could this mean they're finished with their renovations? I doubt it.

Anyway, someone did take a few of the boxes, so that's good. I'm not sure what's happening with the saw or if it's still there.

Last night Dave and I watched "God + Country," the new documentary about the rise of Christian Nationalism in the United States. It features commentary by a variety of Christian theologians warning of the dangers and distortions of the extreme brand of Christianity we see among the MAGA crowd, particularly. It made some interesting points. One expert pointed out that Trump, with his love of ostentatious gilding and his spray-tanned and blow-dried appearance, is a lot like a televangelist -- in other words, the Bible-thumpers have seen his type before and they're familiar and comfortable with it. They're even familiar with his character flaws. I never really thought of that. They know that behavior model.

Another point -- observable but not explicitly stated -- is that many of the Christian Nationalist ministers and followers shown in the film had distinct southern accents, but many of the moderates did not. This made me think about the regional elements of this movement, and its echoes back to the North-South divisions that led to the Civil War. Not all southerners are MAGA, of course, but many MAGA folks are southern.

The film did describe how recent generations of evangelicals latched onto abortion as their principle cause. But it pointed out that the Roe vs. Wade court decision that legalized abortion came right in the middle of a series of decisions that strengthened civil rights laws -- and that those were, in fact, a huge part of what motivated many conservative evangelicals to become more political. In other words, they talked about abortion, but they also wanted to preserve segregation.

A very interesting film, and worth watching!

(Top photo: Our flowering quince in bloom. Bottom photo: Olga snoozing on Monday night.)