DOING THEOLOGY

                 October 3, 2012

A CASE FOR CHRISTIAN ATHEISM

Introduction:

“If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.”

                                                            - Zen Master Linji

While in Morocco a few years back, we took a cab from the harbor in Tangiers to the railway station. Along the way, our daughter, who, praise be to Allah, speaks Arabic, was engaged in an animated discussion with the cab driver. They were, in Moroccan tradition, loudly proclaiming whatever it was they were discussing. We sat in the back seat without a clue as to what was going on. Finally, the driver threw up his hands...and in Moroccan traffic that is a very dangerous thing to do.. .and then patted our daughter on the shoulder and murmured something and offered her a big smile. When we arrived at the train station and after shaking hands with the man several times, we asked her what had transpired…

                                                      

"He wanted to know how I could speak his language..

 (Molly is blond and stands out in a crowd of North Africans the way a burqa-clad woman would stand out at Pilgrim Place.)

Then he wanted to know what I was doing in Morocco.

…and then he wanted to know if I was Muslim.

When I told him I wasn't Muslim, he couldn't believe it.

So we discussed how an Arabic-speaking woman could be a Christian.

Again, he said he couldn’t believe it.

 But then he patted me on the shoulder and said,

 "All in good time, my child, all in good time."

You needed to have been there, I suppose, but I found myself reflecting on his declaration in a couple of ways. I know he was being authentically kind. He really did believe that ultimately all people will come under the Islamic tent…not with fear and trembling but genuinely acknowledging the wisdom of this particular revelation.   On the other hand, I worry that he, like so many Christians I know over here, can't accept the multiple pathways of truth. Why must I become a Muslim or why must he become a Christian? Surely there are other ways of experiencing a nurturing, productive spiritual journey than one particular religion?

Christianity, Judaism, Islam and others are struggling to separate that which is essential in their teachings from that which is tangential. We can see evidence of this in a myriad of ways. Fundamentalist Muslims who see the modern world as evil, who demand ancient dress codes or entice youngsters to suicidal missions with the promise of eternal rewards, convinced that this is the only way of being a Muslim cause moderate Muslims to wonder if such a conservative stance is really essential.  And, of course, there are Christians who make similar demands with ludicrous claims on science and sinister designs on the political process causing other Christians to separate themselves from such thinking. Indeed, there is a growing movement within Judaism that has many faithful Jews wishing to separate their religion from support of Israel. Decades of murder and mayhem have convinced them that any claim that God has promised a particular piece of real estate to one particular people is false. 

Discovering what is essential in our  own spiritual journeys is to constantly remind ourselves that the finger we use to point to God is not God, that the lens we look through on our search for the divine, is not the divine. All talk of God is metaphor.  When we forget that essential understanding of the spiritual journey, it is time to kill the Buddha. 

* * * *

Christianity, as most people understand it, is formed not around the teachings of Jesus but rather the teachings about Jesus.  These teachings about Jesus began long before Matthew, Mark, Luke or John put quill to parchment and even before Paul, the earliest and most prolific of New Testament writers, began sending out his theologically driven epistles. It began with stories, stories told not via instant messaging or over the internet but one person, one story at a time and as the story went from one person to the next it was changed, altered, embellished, perhaps even mingled with other familiar stories going around the neighborhood.  One of the great theological insights regarding this phenomenon comes from those masters of religious inquiry, Monty Python.  In their brilliant movie “The Life of Brian” the Jesus figure is lecturing to the crowd in what appears to be the Sermon on the Mount.  Someone on the periphery thinks he hears one thing…when we all know he should have heard another… 

“What’s he saying?’

“Shhh! 

“Blessed are the cheese-makers.”

“Blessed are the cheese-makers?”

“Blessed are the cheese-makers!!!”

…and on and on it is passed in a brilliant example of the imperfections of oral tradition.

What exactly did Jesus say? 

The Jesus Seminar, an often ridiculed but extremely dedicated group of scholars who have sought to determine the authentic words of Jesus found in the Bible and elsewhere, has spent considerable time and energy trying to answer that question.  What they have discovered is, in fact, precious little that could be assuredly ascribed to Jesus.  Nevertheless their work has, to my mind, offered a brilliant critique and an extremely helpful guide for those of us fascinated with the idea that we might actually peel away two millennia of often convoluted doctrine and catch a glimpse, perhaps only a very small glimpse, of the actual teachings of Jesus.

Such an enterprise, precarious as it may be, has been enormously inspirational to me and thousands of others who have found in the life and teachings of Jesus a model and guide for living. 

Now what is so curious about this model and guide is that it is fully accessible without an attending theology.  That is, one can employ, thanks to The Jesus Seminar and others, the assumedly authentic teachings of Jesus into one’s life without actually believing in God.  Indeed, given the often bizarre beliefs that have been formulated in the name of Christianity, it just may be easier to be a devoted disciple of Jesus if you don’t believe in God.

I don’t for one moment think that Jesus didn’t believe in God.  In his time and situation, it made all the sense in the world to accept the existence of a theistic being who ruled the universe with both a compassionate heart and an iron fist and who, not so incidentally, had a special place in the cosmic scheme of things for Jesus’ own people, the Jews.  Everyone back then had a god or, more often, a plethora of gods to turn to when things got a little rough down below.  But, of course, then came Copernicus and then came Galileo and then came Newton, and Darwin and Freud and Einstein and quantum physics and string theory and Sputnik and on and on and on.  The world underwent enormous changes, some advantageous some not. We evolved.  Industry, commerce, education, science, all evolving, all it seems, but our religions.  To this very day, many religions cling desperately to language, metaphors and symbols that speak to a different age, a different time, a different way of understanding reality.  I continue to marvel over the fact that most of us would never employ a doctor who still uses leeches or a dentist who has failed to stay current on advances in her profession and yet many Christians still choose

similarly ill-equipped pastors and congregations.

Jesus believed in God but whether he did or not does not undermine the enormous wisdom found in his teachings.  Again, it just may be easier, given the current state of conventional religious teachings, to be a devoted disciple of Jesus without believing in God.

This case for a kind of Christian Atheism gains strength when we consider the manner in which we develop our images of God.  A friend and mentor, Jack Spong, offers this little bit of theological insight gained from Xenophanes: “If horses had gods, all gods would look like horses.”  So, for instance, the Lutheran god looks a little like a combination between Ingmar Bergman and Garrison Keillor…dark and gloomy most of the time but once a week you can count on a few good laughs.  The Jewish god is pretty concerned with geography and the Muslim god likewise but with a decidedly different bias.  The Presbyterian god likes most things in good order and the Catholic god speaks in a deep and very male voice while the Quaker god keeps silent.  The Unitarian god seems to love everyone without exception even as the American god spends a good deal of time blessing, well, America.  All kinds of horses with all kinds of horse-like gods.

Here at Pilgrim Place, and particularly at our mealtime grace, language is often employed that conjures up a peculiarly partisan god who seems to be extraordinarily eager to bless us who are gathered with the benefits of good food, fine company and meaningful lives while apparently ignoring the 90% of the rest of the world who go without such divine and disturbingly capricious, magnanimity. (“Heavenly Father, We are so blessed with this great food, wonderful staff, dear friends…”) What, one wonders, does that mean for all those without great food, wonderful staff and dear friends?

 Christian Atheism recognizes the reality of a self-designed and self-designated divinity and suggests that it might be best to leave that often confusing component completely out of our spiritual lives.  Christian atheism finds in the life and teachings of Jesus more than enough provision for a rich and meaningful life, an abundant life centered in a pre-Easter Jesus, the Jesus of history, a Jesus without the doctrine, without the distortion of creeds and archaic confessions of faith…creeds and confessions that were created out of the best intentions but nevertheless are no longer relevant in a post-modern world that has long since left literalistic interpretations and archaic myth-making far behind.  Christian Atheism announces, haltingly, hesitatingly to be sure, but sincerely and honestly that the time has come to simply leave God in all her manifestations behind and center our faith in the figure of Jesus, admittedly little known but known enough to pin our hopes and dedicate our lives to following in his footsteps.

It is both curious and illuminating to note, by the way, that in three of the four gospels, Jesus puts very little emphasis on belief systems.  He spends a rather insignificant amount of time urging his listeners to accept particular theological concepts or doctrinal descriptions.  What he does spend the majority of his time doing is living out a life of compassion, of justice, of radical hospitality…and what he says, time after time, is not “Believe in me” but, rather, “Follow me.”  Follow me!  Don’t worry about whether you believe in this or don’t believe in that.  Don’t worry whether you were born a cursed Samaritan or a denigrated woman.  Don’t worry if you are despised by your neighbors or decorated by the state.  Just follow me.  And in so doing you will discover what I have discovered.  You will enter into the kingdom of heaven that is all around you.  You will experience the abundant life.

Amazingly, this emphasis on doing rather than believing has been dismissed by Christian hierarchy as nothing less than heresy.  In my own Lutheran tradition, we were admonished by Dr. Luther to ignore the very action-oriented biblical book of James as being no more than “a book of straw” with little or nothing of import for faithful Christians.  (Not so incidentally, it is this very book that often serves as a bridge between progressive Christians and other religious traditions.  James is reportedly the favorite book of the Bible for the Dali Llama.)

For most of the past two thousand years, Christians have been told that the only thing that really mattered was that you believe particular doctrines and accepted certain theological descriptions.  You needed to be born-again or at a minimum dipped three times in water to claim the mantle of Christian.  But the emerging evidence of Biblical scholarship suggests that is precisely not what Jesus was teaching.  “Follow me,” Jesus says, over and over again, in Matthew, Mark and Luke.  “Believe in me…” is left, almost solely, to the Jesus found in the gospel of John, the latest and most doctrinal of the four gospels and, not so incidentally, the gospel most favored by conservative Christians.

Speaking of conservative Christians…in recent years, an emerging movement seems to be taking root in evangelical Christianity.  A growing number of the faithful, particularly among the young and educated, are beginning to put an emphasis on some decidedly non-traditional conservative concerns…like the environment, like a fair and equitable health care system, like a government that seeks peace rather than war.  Now this is a very exciting development because, I believe, whether these non-traditional evangelicals realize it or not, such thinking will move them ever closer to Christian Atheism.  By that I mean: The more closely you follow Jesus the less you will need doctrines about God and the less you need doctrines about God the less you need God.  Rick Warren, the enormously successful evangelical pastor who built up a church of tens of thousands and has sold millions upon millions of books centered on purpose driven lives is beginning to understand this principal whether he knows it or not.  In the past few years, Warren has turned his incredible talents to serving those in need.  He has rallied thousands, maybe millions, of evangelical Christians to turn away from their navels and look out to a world suffering from hunger, poverty, war, AIDS and so much more.  In a matter of days, he raised millions of dollars and thousands of volunteers for Rwandan relief.  When asked about this change, he confessed that he now realized that he had spent far too much time building up his church and far too little caring for the world.  At a Baptist convention a few years ago, Warren announced the need for a second reformation that would be about “deeds not creeds.”  Talk about a slippery slope!  Welcome Pastor Warren to a conversation that some of us have been having for a very long time.  Welcome Pastor Warren to a god-diminished religion.  Welcome Pastor Warren to the possibility of Christian Atheism.

 

On one of my sabbaticals, I spent the summer serving an Anglican parish in London and studying the history and theology of the Anglican tradition.  Now The Church of England is a very curious institution indeed.  It can be the most rigidly traditionalist force in all of English society and, at the same time, produce some of the most radical theological thinkers of this or any other day.  One such radical is the Anglican priest and Cambridge scholar, Donald Cupitt.  Cupitt is a kind of living archetype of the paradox that exists within the Church of England.  For the Reverend Mr. Cupitt, an Anglican priest, is also a practicing atheist.  He is a priest, I dare say, of Christian Atheism, of a movement that is drawn deeply and profoundly into the teachings of Jesus but has little interest in or commitment to the traditional teachings about Jesus.  Cupitt has written extensively on his unique spiritual journey.   In the preface of, what I believe to be, his most helpful book: “Taking Leave of God”, Cupitt explains his choice of title by quoting a great medieval Christian mystic, Meister Eckhart, writing on spiritual maturity: “Man’s last and highest parting occurs when, for God’s sake, man takes leave of God.”  It is that parting movement that seems, at least to me, the logical and inevitable destination of all those who choose, like Dr. Cupitt and a growing number of others, to be committed to following the teachings of Jesus rather than believing the teachings about Jesus. This is both the start and the essence of Christian Atheism.

Jesus taught and lived a life of compassion.  It is the very heart of his ministry and it is a perfect model for our own imperfect ministries.  It is an invitation to an abundant, meaning-filled life that can be experienced fully, richly, completely with or without much of the accompanying doctrine.  Surely we have reached that place in inter-religious dialogue here at Pilgrim Place where all folk are welcomed…even those Christians who have taken leave of God. 

Now I certainly understand there is nothing new in this proposal.  It has been proffered for more than two thousand years and condemned as heretical for the same amount of time.  But every so often, it seems to me, it is good to bring this little heresy back out into the open where others can see it and ponder its meaning for them and, perhaps, to discover as I have, that such an understanding, heretical as it may be, nevertheless offers a spiritual path that provides all that one needs for an abundant life, indeed all that one needs to enter into what Jesus called the kingdom of heaven.     

A recent Gallup poll of 1,012 adults rates the honesty and ethics of 21 professions. Clergy ranked sixth behind Nurses (84%), Pharmacists (73%), Medical Doctors (70%), High School Teachers (64%) and Police Officers (54%) but we rabbis, pastors and priests have nothing to gloat about. This same poll ten years ago had 64% of the folk giving high-marks to clergy. This year we got only 52%. That’s not even passing! We’re still rated above Lobbyists and Politicians who tied for the lowest mark at 7% but who wants to brag about that?

I suppose we could blame it on a problematic few but I have a hunch that even without the pedophiles in priests’ clothing , our popularity would still be shrinking. We’re the ones, after all, who continually set ourselves up and then let everyone else down.

In any case, I’m all for trusting nurses above everyone else. As someone who has spent a great deal of time visiting in hospitals, my admiration for the nursing profession only grows broader and deeper. These are the men and women on the front lines of health care. Countless times I have had the privilege of witnessing the healing power of the dedicated nurse. When, understandably, a doctor can spend but a few minutes with a patient, it is the nursing staff that provides the therapeutic power of simply being present…monitoring vital signs, administering pharmaceuticals and emptying bedpans. But also developing relationships, offering a listening ear, comforting a frightened soul as well… these are the reasons why anyone who has spent any time in a hospital would concur with the 840 people who told Mr. Gallup just who they thought were the most trustworthy folk of all.

I suspect the 7 interviewees that rated politicians as paramount in honesty and ethics all have a cousin running in some election. And the seven others who thought lobbyists were worthy of our respect probably are getting fat checks from either oil spillers or gas guzzlers. Even before the Occupy Movement made headlines most of us in the 99% were rethinking this whole notion of trickle-down economics. We’ve come to realize it’s not even a slow drip.

I’ve tried to find where kindergartners rank on this year’s list but it appears they didn’t make the cut. I suspect this reflects more the failings of the pollsters than the kids. This is entirely anecdotal but my experience with 5 and 6 year-olds would have me placing them right up there with the nurses.

For many years, I had the privilege of meeting with 20 or so kindergartners every Friday morning. We would spend our time catching up on each other’s lives and reading a story or two. If what we are judging here is honesty and ethical behavior, you’d have to go a long way to find more ethically and honest folk than these little people. For instance, not too long ago I was caught off guard when, in the midst of what I thought was a most entertaining story, one of the kids confessed that he had a better story to tell. Against my better judgment, I invited the tyke to tell his tale.

With surprising aplomb, the boy launched into a detailed description of a less than joyous discussion between Mommy and Daddy that occurred the night before. The kids and I sat in rapt attention as the boy graphically represented both the language and body language from the previous night’s drama. Because I am a clergyman whose honesty and ethics are on the decline, I hesitated before stopping the story from continuing. In that pause, my young storyteller reached his conclusion and we all discovered that the Tuesday Night Fights ended with giggles from the bedroom. Soon all the little honest and ethical kindergartners were sharing similar stories.

I could certainly tell you more but then next year we clergy might be listed behind the lobbyists.

“May I have a name, please?” the kind young woman asked as she finished relaying my tall latte order to her co-worker.

In the nanosecond or two that bridged the gap between her question and my response, a strange and potent power seemed to make its presence known deep within the gaps of my psyche. Here was my chance, I surmised, to change my identity. I could, with the ease of unchallenged conversation, simply become someone other than myself.

For instance, I might stare deeply into her rather unresponsive hazel eyes and say, “They call me Steel” and see if such nomenclature might buckle her probably aching knees. Or, if I was feeling a need to convince myself and any overhearing others that I possess intellectual powers now abundantly lacking, I might respond to her innocent request by squinting more than a little, push the bridge of my glasses higher up on my formidable nose and say, “Albert” or, “Leonardo”, if I’m feeling that bold.

My mother once mentioned that I bore a striking resemblance to Paul Newman or maybe it was Danny DeVito. No matter. Now was my chance to try on either for size. Actually, I have for many years now spent too much time wondering what it would be like to have a book on the bestseller list. I could say “John” (as in Grisham) or “Chicken” (as in Soup).

Isn’t this fun? OK maybe fun isn’t exactly the right word but surely you can see the myriad of possibilities that present themselves. You call the restaurant to make your reservation but instead of something as prosaic as Jones or Smith or Mayfield, we get to say, “Ferrari” or “Gates” or maybe “Eli Manning” if you’re feeling really cheeky. I’ll bet the table waiting for you won’t be by the bathroom door.

I probably shouldn’t admit this but, just between you and me, I sometimes am not completely honest when someone asks what it is I did before I retired. Like changing my name, I have been tempted not to fully reveal my former professional status to strangers. Over the years I have found such a pronouncement can, and very quickly, end conversation and put dampers on any fun. Once on a chairlift, I was, most hospitably, offered a toke on my seat-partner’s marijuana joint. My smiling declination did not prevent him from sharing two-thirds of his life story by the time we were half way up the lift. As we hit the mid-point, he inquired as to my profession. Honestly I told him and, honestly, he never said another word.

Another time, on a two and a half hour flight to California, the fellow sitting next to me offered me something very different than my acquaintance on the lift. This guy gave me nothing more than a big smile. But then he opened up a Bible and began to feverishly take notes, underlining whole chapters. He would frequently turn toward me in a not too subtle invitation to conversation. I buried myself in my book and pretended not to notice his very public piety. Had he asked I would, without question, have told him anything but the truth. I’m nauseous enough when I fly.

“Pierre”, I could say with one raised eyebrow, hinting of exotic locales. “Igor” I could grunt and experience, if only momentarily, what it might be like to be an intimidator rather than always the intimidatee.

My dad had the wonderful name “Max”, although I never appreciated it when I was a kid. I wanted an old man with a moniker like “Joe” or “Bud”. “Max” always seemed more mousy than macho. People named their dogs “Max” not their people. Only now that he’s gone I miss hearing his name. So here was my chance to honor his memory. Should I take it?

I once knew a man named “Caroll”. Johnny Cash knew a boy named “Sue”. I have a male friend named, “Joy”. Would it be too shocking to tell her my name was “Charlotte”? Would the laugh be worth the embarrassment of innocently shouting out “Margaret”?

The possibilities are many, the risks reasonably few. Here was my chance, at least for the moment, to alter my past, leave my mistakes behind and start completely anew.

I bit my lower lip and took a deep breath.

“Rich”, I said.

Have you ever wondered who all those people are who are listed in the credits at the end of a movie? Do you have any idea of what a Key Grip does or how a woman can be a Best Boy? How in the world can there be so many people involved in the making of one little film?

Before I ever earned the “Rev.” before my name, I spent a good many years working in television and motion pictures. Indeed, there are a few movies where I am listed as one of those interminable names at the end. I have been not only a Key Grip and a Best Boy but a Gaffer, a Boomer, a Loader, a Puller, an A.D., an Assistant to the A.D., a 2^nd Unit Director and, believe it or not, a stunt car driver. Although the memory dims, I think I can still remember just what each job entailed although I am a little fuzzy over what my responsibilities were back when I was paid to be a Clapper. I know it didn’t have anything to do with applauding.

Such reminiscing calls me to reflect on the myriad of folk who have had a hand in my own making. Leading roles would go, of course, to my parents but the list of credits would be long and probably, much like the movies, of not great interest to anyone but those whose names are listed.

Nevertheless, it seems a worthy exercise to ponder just precisely who would be on the rolling credit when my life finally goes to black.

I would have to include my first grade teacher, Miss Schwartz, who planted the seed of reading pleasure deep within my soul. In that same category, although I cannot remember any names, I would honor the librarians at the Westchester Public Library in Los Angeles who allowed me to spend hours taking up valuable space just paging through old Life magazines and re-reading Beverly Cleary books.

I don’t know what I would call them: Molders and Shapers? This would be a long list that would contain all those dear people who sacrificed time and energy to get me where I’ve gotten. I doubt many of them ever imagined I’d end up working in the religion biz but, in some strange and mysterious way, because of them I did. I’m thinking now of Mr. Lopez from High School English Class who wouldn’t allow me to just get by. Curiously, I would also give credit to the college counselor who in my freshman year told me to save my parents’ money and drop out now. Her lack of conviction in my abilities, I am convinced, made me all the more able.

Teachers seem to make up a lot of my credit list. Part of that is because I have spent so much time in and around schools but it also reminds me of what a sacred profession teaching is. The power these men and women have in the lives of all of us should give us pause. It should also compel us to make sure they are the very best our society can offer. It is an interesting commentary on all of us that we pay teachers so little and expect from them so much.

Antithetically, I would list Reginald DuPree as “Reality Doser”. DuPree was my first employer out of college. When he hired me to work in his Import/Export business he took note of a proud fact I had listed on my resume. “Oh, I see you’re a college graduate.” he said to me. When I smugly smiled he went on to say, “I’ll give you an extra $25 a month for that.”

As the credits continue to roll, I would have to add a long list of names under the title “Inspirers”. Included would be the famous and the almost forgotten, all those who, by their lives, encouraged me onward and outward. Some of the great writers would be on this list but so would some of the not so great. I am humbled to remember how certain folk have reached out to me in the course of their lives and changed the course of my own.

I remember casually mentioning to a friend a long time ago that my wife and I were pregnant. “Oh brother is your life going to change!” is what he said and what he said was absolutely true. Under “Life Changers” I’d list three. Under “Life Sustainer” I’d list just one: my wife, my lover, my dearest friend.

The list is long and growing longer so I’ll have to leave some space for other names between now and the inevitable The End.

The recent release of the new movie production of John LeCarre’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which involves the search for a mole within the British Secret Service, reminds me of another search closer to home that scandalized America and shook the FBI to its core.

His name is Robert Philip Hanssen and he was a 25-year career FBI agent who was arrested in 2001 for spying for the Soviets. His friends and neighbors, his co-workers and superiors, all expressed shock and disbelief. Apparently, Hanssen exhibited the most conservative and traditional of values as he went about his nefarious business. No one suspected that he was a willing participant in a terrible treachery.

All kinds of theories have been proposed as to how the man managed to pull off what the Justice Department called “possibly the worst case of intelligence disaster in US history”. Some suggest that he was simply in it for the thrill. Others say it was the money. I’ve read one analysis that plays with the idea that Hanssen was schizophrenic and literally led two parallel lives that never seemed to cross.

Interestingly to those of us who ponder issues of morality, there are some experts who believe that Hanssen may have managed to compartmentalize his life so much that he was totally unaware of the damage he was doing to others.

While serving in the FBI, Robert Phillip Hanssen was an active follower of Opus Dei, the ultra-conservative Roman Catholic organization that seeks a kind of Christianity more akin to the Middle-Ages than the 21^st Century. Opus Dei is rabidly anti-modern, anti-ecumenical and, most certainly anti-communist. Given this fervent religious conviction, it is almost unbelievable to think that Hanssen was involved in such a reactionary movement while, at the same time, selling secrets to the Russians.

Almost.

But haven’t we all met people who have, on a much smaller scale, acted in similar ways as did Mr. Hansen? Good, decent folk who have managed through intellectual self-manipulation to compartmentalize certain aspects of their lives so that they do not affect other aspects.

For instance, sensitive as I am to the foibles of ministers and priests, I have, on occasion, been both amused and a little shocked to find radar detectors on the dashboards of some of my peers. I wonder how they have managed to work out the seeming incongruity of a man or woman employed in an occupation based completely on honesty and trust with such a dishonest activity. They have managed, of course, because they see no connection between radar guns and religious activity.

Kids are good at pointing out this same incongruity. Sometimes they do it with their behavior rather than their voices. After all, if one’s normally honest and truthful parent brags of beating the government out of taxes that are rightfully owed, why should we blame a teenager for breaking the law in his or her own way? All they are doing is compartmentalizing their lives in the same way most of us adults do.

One of my heroes is the late Cardinal Joseph Bernadin who spoke often of the need to have a “seamless garment” of philosophical consistency. If we claim to be pro-life in regard to the not yet born, we must also be pro-life in regard to capital punishment or reckless defense spending or the battle against AIDS or a host of other examples where being pro-life means more than picketing Planned Parenthood Clinics. Compartmentalizing allows us to ignore the inconsistencies that fill our lives.

For those of us who have worked in social services, an all too common example of compartmentalizing can be found in cases of abuse. Often the abuser leads an exemplary life in all areas but one, a very terrible one. Long ago I learned not to be surprised to discover that some of the most seemingly upright of folk are engaged in the most despicable of activities. Even more shocking, perhaps, is how often these perpetrators fail to see the incongruity in their lives. A lifetime of inconsistency can build a strong foundation for a future of contemptible incongruity.

There is an old saying in my circles about making sure you take the log out of your own eye before you point to the speck in another’s. Perhaps before condemning Mr. Hanssen and others like him, we search for similar inconsistencies in our own lives.

Periodically, I find it both helpful and necessary to leave my routine and spend time reflecting on who I’ve become and what I want still to do. Such ruminating used to find a welcome home at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado. There the dozen or so monks welcome those folk who, like me, need time apart.

It really is a lovely place. Like an island to a shipwrecked sailor, the monastery rests in the center of a vast valley. Each time I drove onto the property, a palpable sense of peace surrounded me. I cherish the memory of those holy times.

I would often bring more books than I should and make more plans than I ought. But then there were those times when I focused less on projects and more on place. Sitting with the brothers in their simple sanctuary, breathing deep and slow, I remembered again what really matters.

Contemplating those sacred times apart, my thoughts turn to the writing of Thomas Merton. Merton was a Trappist monk who captivated much of the world with his honest writings of the spiritual journey. A sentence or two from his work can be all the fodder one needs to feed the soul. I’ll never forget the time I was pulled up short with this profound thought: “The intention to please God, pleases God.” It may not seem like much to some but for those of us who live with questions and doubt, such a promise is deeply comforting.

And thinking of honest writers, one of my favorites is Anne Lamott whose take on things spiritual is quirky to say the least. Here’s one that I’ve been carrying around in my notebook waiting to share it with you: “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out God hates all the same people you do.” That particular perspective is revealed, over and over again, in a couple of my favorite books by Anne: “Traveling Mercies” and “Bird by Bird”. Great reading for your next retreat.

Another resource for reflection comes not from a Christian monk but a Buddhist, Jack Kornfield. He reminds me again of the discipline involved in the spiritual quest with a clever quip: “There is no McMeditation.”

James Finley, whose book, “The Contemplative Heart,” is an excellent guide to take on your retreat. Finley used to have a poster in his office that read…“Things to do today: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.”

Going on retreat, whether to a beautiful monastery or to the privacy of, as Virginia Woolf put it, “a room of one’s own,” allows us to see the world around us in ways that can be transforming. Nikos Kazantzakis captured a sense of that conversion experience when he wrote… I said to the almond tree, “Sister, speak to me of God.” And the almond tree blossomed.

Toward the end of his life, Merton became keenly interested in Buddhism. In fact, he was in Bangkok dialoging with monks from all different religions the very day he was accidentally killed. Here is a comment of his that transcends religious differences and gets to the heart of any healthy spirituality: “What we have to be is what we are.”

If all this seems just too serious, allow me to offer one final quote from Merton’s profound pen: “What is serious to men is often very trivial in the sight of God. What in God might appear to us as play is perhaps what God takes most seriously.”

It would be so helpful if just once when the preacher asks us all to bow our heads and assume the position of prayer; she’d give us a sly, little grin and say instead, “Let us play!”

Mr. Arthur Mijares of Oakley, California, claims that God spoke to him recently and demanded he lead a campaign to change the name of his county's lone mountain from Mt. Diablo to Mt. Reagan.
"Diablo", as many of you already know, is Spanish for "devil" while "Reagan" is, as some of you passionately believe, English for much the same thing. So it comes as little surprise that Mijares' divinely mandated application for a name change has sparked some controversy among his neighbors in his San Francisco East Bay community. According to an article this week in The Los Angeles Times, more than 80,000 people have registered their opposition to the re-naming. Still Mr. Mijares persists claiming that the mountain's name is "derogatory, pejorative, offensive, obscene, blasphemous and profane."
Mr. Mijares describes himself as "an ordinary man that worships God," who received his instructions from the aforementioned divinity during his prayer time. Much like Moses, Mijares was initially reluctant, "Lord they're going to think I'm a loon." But religious man that he is, Mijares moved forward, filing the proper papers with the proper authorities. And that's when all hell broke loose.
Having lived for four years in the shadow of beautiful Mt. Diablo, I read with interest of Mr. Mijares' quixotic quest. Indeed, residing now in a county whose forebears' depleted imaginations have many of us living underneath mountains with the lackluster names of "Peak 7, 8, 9" and, not too surprisingly, "Peak 10," I was curious as to the implications of this attempt to alter the title of one of California's cherished landmarks for the sake of one man's claimed religious obligation.
Precedent would seem to favor God and Mr. Mijares. All of California's major cities are named in honor of either a saint, a sacrament or even an entire heavenly host of angels. Nevertheless, relying on that decidedly Christian tradition could be dangerous as Californians in the interceding years since their cities were named have become, how shall I say it, less traditionally religious. Way, way, way less.
The danger to God-hearing Christians is that these modern heretics might decide to file counter-appeals in an attempt to rid their state of the vestiges of the Spanish Catholicism that permeates California's history. If God makes a move on the devil at Mt. Diablo, there may be petitions from the dark side to change San Francisco, Los Angeles, Sacramento and San Diego into Cleveland, Detroit, Buffalo and maybe even Fargo.
And please do not think that we in Colorado are safe from such mischievous maneuvering. When you have an entire mountain range named for the blood of Christ, we all should be taking notice of what is going on in Contra Costa County. For instance, just imagine what would happen if Colorado's Jews decided to mount a campaign to change the peaks of our Sangre de Cristos to something like The Mazel Tov Mountains. Oy veh!
Of course it isn't just the Jews that Christians should be worried about. Buddhists could demand Nederland be renamed Namaste and the Hindus could petition to make Aspen into Ashram...and it won't stop there! Every agnostic and atheist among us might start clamoring to take the tabernacle out of Tabernash and the trinity out of Trinidad!
Deciding on a completely secular designation, however, is not without its own problems. As evidence, one need only be reminded of such charming Colorado towns with dreadful names like Basalt, Silt and Rifle or, dare I mention, Leadville.
Here in Summit County we've managed through our naming to irritate the million or so folk from San Francisco who still growl at any tourist who deigns to designate their city as merely Frisco. And our own county seat of Breckenridge came to its name, as most locals know, only by altering the name of another. But Silverthorne has a real mountain ring to it and Dillon, Blue River and Copper Mountain are satisfyingly inoffensive...although anyone who has travelled south of the border may find the name, Montezuma, revengefully reminiscent.
In any case, word has arrived that the Contra Costa Board of Supervisors have voted unanimously to oppose the renaming. All of which means, of course, that the devil got his due.

For a while there I was thinking that there wasn’t much of value coming from the far-right fringe of American politics. I mean listening to Texas school board members yammer on about the six days of creation or Sarah Palin on presidential death squads doesn’t exactly invite serious intellectual dialogue. Tea-partiers who pronounce America’s impending socialist-driven demise or social-security pensioners complaining about welfare abuse find most folk fairly immune to their anguished agitations.
But lately a new movement is taking shape that is finding fans on both sides of our immobilized political process. They’re being called “Tenthers” for their eagerness to invoke the 10th Amendment to the Constitution any time an edict out of Washington displeases them. These are folk who claim states’ rights still trump the federal government, who believe Mississippi matters more than these United States. Sound familiar? Thought we’d gone through this some 150 years ago? Well, here we go again…and some of us from the other side are thinking it’s not as wacko as some of you may at first think.
Secession has its good points. When someone like the secessionist-threatening Texas Governor Rick Perry urges his fellow fanatics with statements like…” (We are) willing and ready for the fight if this administration continues to try to force their very expansive government philosophy down our collective throats.” It only gets liberals to thinking that maybe a Texas-less U.S. wouldn’t be all that bad.
With Texas off on its own, America would cut its capital punishment quotient by at least half and maybe even regain a little credibility among the world’s more civilized countries. And that is only the beginning of the benefits that could accrue if those who claim to want a very different nation than the one we’ve got, actually go. Think of it…Glenn Beck could begin his long anticipated career as the intellectual bellwether for a new confederation of un-united states! Rush Limbaugh could take charge in Florida and leave the rest of us to go on our merry, neo-Marxist way!
Oh the joy. Imagine a Senate without men like Richard Shelby who threw a procedural tantrum when he didn’t get enough pork sent his southern way. Shelby, you may remember, ingratiated himself to a certain segment of wingnutdom by demanding to see President Obama’s birth certificate during the last election. And, of course, the House of Representatives would reap immeasurable benefit by watching the backsides of malcontents like Congresswoman Michele Bachman who recently announced that it was time “to wean everyone off Social Security and Medicare.” Michele might have to move from Stillwater to San Antonio to live on the far-right side of a new Mason-Dixon Line but I’m sure many in Minnesota would appreciate it.
Now I know there are descendents from the last round of secessionists who would just as soon remain attached to the rest of us, but it is tantalizing to think of other ways in which a new confederacy could be of considerable benefit. As I understand it, a new secession of certain states would lower the U.S. crime rate significantly and raise our educational level dramatically. Our national health care costs would diminish along with our national debt since the annual per capita tax revenue from the original seceding states still doesn’t match the annual per capita governmental expenditures. I’ve been told divorce rates would fall, life-expectancy would rise and literacy rates improve for the rest of us if our secessionist friends would just take leave of us the way they have taken leave of their own senses.
“America: Love it or leave it!” was what we once heard from those who claimed to be this nation’s only true patriots. Some of us are thinking…maybe it’s time they follow their own advice?

Rich Mayfield
For: 2-6-10
For most of my younger years the only authority I questioned was my mother who responded to my queries by chasing me around the house with a wooden spoon. I accepted the universal assertions that Ike was a hero, Khrushchev was the anti-Christ and Jesus was Norwegian. The first premise was affirmed by my fourth-grade teacher Mr. Albright, the second by our wild-eyed neighbor Frieda Hellman and the last by the plethora of paintings that hung in our little Lutheran church.
There He was, sculpted by his fine Scandinavian features…the long thin nose, the square jaw, the beautifully flowing hair with just the faintest of blond highlights. Anyone with an objective eye could see the heritage…especially if your name was Sven or Olav. That Bethlehem was over two thousand miles to the south did not seem to hinder the Aryan assumption that permeated our parish. It wasn’t until I had done some traveling that I realized Jesus probably looked more like Yasser Arafat than Charlton Heston.
That the image of Jesus has been altered by his adoring followers is evident right from the very beginning. Even the gospel writers didn’t completely agree on what he said or how he said it. (Passages happily provided.) By the time of Constantine in the early 4th century, Jesus’ cross had been flipped into a sword by which the converted Christian emperor could slay all those who opposed his new found faith.
More recently, Jesus’ fans have turned his teachings into polemics for free-market capitalism, Marxist-styled socialism and world-rebuking asceticism. Even Hitler had a task-force created to prove that Jesus didn’t have any Jewish blood.
In the 1970’s Jesus turned into a free-spirited superstar with a hit Broadway musical. In the more progressive churches, the Norwegian Jesus was replaced by one more closely resembling yippie Abbie Hoffman, contemptuously laughing at our uptight social mores and incessant material acquisitions. By the turn of this century, Jesus was primarily used to bolster big-time athletics with players bowing their heads before blasting out of the locker room hell-bent on being #1. TV evangelists by the score promise that Jesus wants us to be rich, beautiful and as buff as Brad and Angelina.
So I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised when I read this week of the new alignment some of Jesus’ disciples have made with Mixed Martial Arts. If you’re not familiar with this apparently pleasant pastime for thousands of primarily young men, it involves getting into a ring, or sometimes a cage, and trying to beat the crap out of your opponent. This newly sanctified sport involves kickboxing, wrestling, fisticuffs and just about any other form of violent conflict this side of a .357 magnum. As I understand it, there are a growing number of churches that are sponsoring these testosterone-driven dramas as a means of garnering favor for Christianity among the violence-prone set. Interestingly, Ryan Dobson, son of Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family fame, is one of those spearheading (no pun intended) this evangelical campaign. According to Dobson the younger: “We’ve raised a generation of little boys.” Which I can only assume means Christianity is in need of big boys who like to fight each other. As a former pastor and sometimes Christian, I can report that Christianity already has enough of those guys.
I suppose there may be some believers who fall back on the old evangelical premise: “Whatever works” in their fervor to convert the fallen but I also suspect there are more than a few followers of Jesus who are scratching their heads over the logic employed. After all, what would Jesus say? (That’s easy)
“Uff da!”

Somewhere I read that the actual amount of football being played in a 3½ hour NFL telecast is something like 11 minutes. Take away the huddles, timeouts, commercial breaks and the incredible amount of time spent reviewing previous plays and what you come up with is a little over ten minutes of actual football.
I thought of that interesting statistic while watching President Obama’s State of the Union address on Thursday night. It took over an hour to deliver but remove the inordinate amount of time it took the Democrats to rise up out of their seats in one more standing ovation and I’ll bet the speech could have fit into a Super Bowl halftime.
I exaggerate. I also admit to a certain admiration for the aerobic attributes of the many aged Democrats who stood up and sat down with such fervor and frequency one would have thought our president was leading an exercise class for senior citizens at the local rec-center.
Not so the Republicans. Glumly they sat as if daring Obama to just try and make them smile. Just try. Watching them reminded me of a time many years ago when I was the visiting preacher at a very traditional church in Pennsylvania. Because I think a little levity can go a long way in promoting the gospel, I offered up some of my best one-liners to the folk sitting in the pews, gags guaranteed to garner guffaws from the faithful. But there was nothing. The congregation just looked back at me utterly expressionless. It was sickeningly apparent to me that I was facing grim, grimacing practitioners of a kind of old-fashioned Protestantism that didn’t take kindly to levity. Nevertheless, I persevered, the only smile to greet me or my message coming from my wife sitting faithfully in the front pew. It came as something of a surprise then as I was shaking hands with these sober Lutherans filing past me on their way to whatever humorless pursuits filled their Sunday afternoons that one gentleman took my hand, looked me in the eye and with the slightest hint of a wink said, “Good job, pastor. You almost made me laugh!”
Almost. I don’t think our president even got that close with the Republicans. Mitch McConnell, the Senate Minority Leader, sat like a statue, unmoving, which, I thought, was an accurate representation of his party. Although there are many of us independents disenchanted with the laughable leadership of the Democratic Party at the moment, the Republicans have yet to offer anything close to a viable alternative. Indeed, they have offered no alternatives at all. “No” seems to be the entire platform of the current G.O.P. Given the current political climate in our country, it may be enough to garner some more seats in Congress but once the Republicans arrive will they have any idea what to do?
At least no one from the right made any cat-calls or rude accusations, not that I could hear, anyway. I suspect they were told to be on their best behavior. Making certain a continuing paralysis grips the democratic process and no meaningful legislation is ever passed for the next three years must be considered best behavior, as well.
Is it any wonder the public grows more and more cynical? Watching the smug smiles of those daring the president to try and pass any legislation, does give one pause. I appreciated the president turning to that somber collection of conservatives and inviting them into the policy making process. “If the Republican leadership is going to insist that 60 votes in the Senate are required to do any business at all in this town, then the responsibility to govern is yours as well. Just saying no to everything may be good short-term politics but it’s not leadership.”
Surely somewhere out among those solemn senators there exists one or two politicians who actually believe that being in Congress carries a certain responsibility beyond lining one’s own or one’s constituency’s pockets. Surely there are one or two Republicans who can remember a time not all that long ago when being the loyal opposition meant working out compromises and forging coalitions. Surely there is someone amongst that severe gathering who has the faith in what our founding fathers created to re-start the process by reaching out a hand, looking the president in the eye and admitting with a wink, “You almost made me laugh!”

There’s been a dearth of good news lately and not just for the Democrats. The front page of most newspapers is a daily reminder of the vagaries of life on our planet and the subsequent sorrows, aggravation and anger that result. It is no wonder that Hollywood reports attendance at the movies is up again this year. Apparently and understandably, people prefer to peruse the entertainment pages for respite from the dreariness of the first few sections of the paper.
It was with that very sense of escapism that I came across an interesting site on the net hosted by Nic Baisley (www.filmsnobbery.com) that listed his 50 most important religious films of all time. Since I have an abiding interest in both religion and film and with only cheerless columns of commentary set out before me, it was easy to wile away an afternoon studying his choices and wondering about my own.
Topping his list was Cecil B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments”. This one’s been around for over 50 years and anyone over that age has probably seen it more than once. I remember the first time it was thrust upon me. I was an impressionable teenager when our church youth group attended a wide-screen showing of the epic starring Charlton Heston as Mr. Moses. There were some great special effects to be sure but I left haunted by the premise that the God who we sang hymns to each Sunday was the same one who not only tormented thousands of innocent Egyptians with frogs, flies and a really nasty outbreak of acne but rather cavalierly concluded that the death of every first-born was a reasonable punishment for impiety. My theological concerns diminished on the ride home as we all recounted how cool it was to watch Pharaoh’s foot soldiers deep sixed in the Red Sea. Still, I remember offering up a little prayer of gratitude to God just in case He decided to pop off another generation of first-borns. “Thank you God for older brothers,” is what I said.
Monty Python’s “Life of Brian” came in at #6 which may seem high to some but those of us who have spent a good portion of our lives studying the life of Jesus understand how this one of Brian’s deserves the spot. One of the best critiques of the problems inherent in biblical oral tradition can be found in the scene where Jesus is giving the Sermon on the Mount and those on the edge of the crowd are struggling to hear the rabbi from Nazareth: “What’s he saying?,” someone asks. “It sounds like ‘Blessed are the cheese-makers,” someone else replies. And the word spreads. Soon a whole industry in cheese-making sweeps through the Middle East bringing great wealth to some, vast pride for others and all of it based on a misinterpretation of some very holy words. Anyone who has watched some of the televangelists tearfully declare that the end of the world is nigh or that the God who has a very biblical bias for the poor wants you to be rich understand why this apparent film farce is anything but.
I looked in vain for “Life is Beautiful”, Roberto Benigni’s great paean to hope portrayed amidst the misery of fascist anti-Semitism. Nor did I find my favorite religious film of all time: “Babette’s Feast” on the list. This 1987 Danish movie depicts the deep joy found in sharing one’s life with others and thus captures the essence of all healthy religion.
“The Greatest Story Ever Told” just barely gets in at #47. In the summer of 1965, I stood through this film nearly 100 times while working as an usher at a theatre on the corner of Sunset and Vine. I believe it was the most expensive film to date and I know it employed just about every out of work celebrity in Hollywood at the time. Would you believe Sal Mineo and Robert Blake as disciples? Or Jamie Farr as another of the twelve? Jamie, some of you elders will remember, went on to great fame playing the cross-dressing Klinger on TV’s long-running “M.A.S.H.” And speaking of oldies but goodies…what about Pat Boone as the angel at the tomb? I kid you not.
Although the actor portraying Jesus, the Swede, Max von Sydow, couldn’t speak a word of English back then, he did manage to clearly say, “Blessed are the peace-makers.” But Jose Ferrer, who played King Herod and presumably spoke English very well, makes a muddle of a line that comes out: “What do you know about a nam maimed Jesus?” Next time you’re feeling particularly pious, give this one a screening and see if it doesn’t sound that way to you. It really is a great story but after all those viewings, I’m not so sure this is the way it should be told.
NOTE: Last week I wrote of Adam Beitscher’s powerful plea for help for Haiti but I neglected to mention it was co-written by his fiancé, Alison Quinn. Thanks to both of you!

Sitting, staring, wondering what could possibly be said about the tragedy in Haiti when I received the following from Summit High School graduate, Adam Beitscher. Adam graduated from SHS in 2001 and is now in medical school in Washington D.C. When he is not studying, he volunteers in third world countries. Last time we talked, he was planning on being a medical missionary. His words are compassionate and his idea creative enough to deserve a wider audience…
“Though some of the statements with the news of Haiti have been infuriating, this was written not to be about politics or religion, but rather progress and, hopefully, moving forward from the hell that has enveloped Haiti; because whether or not idiotic claims by zealots (read: Pat Robertson) are analyzed, it has no effect on the millions suffering and dying there.
Maybe we pull for the underdog – and if we’re honest with things, the Haitian poor would be underdogs in a competition against other underdogs of the world – but for some unexplainable reason this disaster strikes a very profound chord with us. Maybe it is because we had an opportunity to walk with the people there, witness their reality. All we know is that something about the country is intoxicating. In some strange way we feel connected with the Haitian people and desire to work with them for a justice that has been so wrongly denied them for so long. Reading a history of the people and their country, like Paul Farmer’s The Uses of Haiti, elucidates how this half of such a small island could be a tiny example of what some extraordinarily unjust practices of globalization and neo-colonialism have accomplished. Though this is not about the past, with some understanding of Haiti’s past maybe it will help what happens from this tragic moment on in the country’s history. Maybe nothing symbolizes that greater than the image of the Presidential palace, an homage to himself by François Duvalier – one of the most violent and evil dictators ever – toppled in on itself.
We have all seen the photographs. We can hear the cries for help from dust covered, bloody faces. We feel life’s fragility when we see bodies of the deceased piled into the streets. This stirs within us something which makes us forget ourselves, our problems, and focuses our sights and emotions on our common humanity. Our human response is often to help in any way possible. The difficult question is always “how?!” And if we do not know of a concrete way to give, we miss the chance. The emotions, pictures, and feelings subside, and people move on with their day to day.
So, at this present moment, with Haiti on the tips of tongues all across the globe, we will see a wonderful human response of agape in Haiti. In fact I’m sure that it has already begun. So this is merely a plea to further that response. Huge governmental aid packages are underway, yet we all know that this is not necessarily the most efficient way to get the money and supplies where it needs to go. I am suggesting a very simple commitment from people that would drastically alter the lives of millions whose world was just destroyed. My suggestion is that for one hour, yes, just one hour in the next month, every person donates that hour’s salary to Haiti (.625% of your monthly salary). So let’s set an arbitrary time: From 1-2 pm on Friday, January 22nd, 2010. At 2:01 pm if everybody donated that past hour’s time, how much could we raise? No matter where you are from, we could all join in solidarity with Haiti for at the least one hour, working together for relief. Tout kapab se Aiysyen pou youn heure!
“So where do I donate?” The Red Cross is always a good option. We prefer donating to organizations that have a constant presence in an area and a relationship to the people. Because of those relationships, we believe, there is more of an investment and more accountability of the organization.
Partners In Health (PIH) is our favorite option. PIH has been working in Haiti for over 20 years with the Haitian poor, delivering health care to those in need. PIH http://pih.org/home.html is one of the most well run organizations I have ever learned about and one of the highest rated non-profits according to http://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=search.summary&orgid=4884. If you find yourself wanting to help, please support their efforts. I am sure that if any group can start to build Haiti, they can. https://donate.pih.org/page/contribute/donate
We have just finished donating to PIH and if we can find money in our budgets as graduate students, we hope that you can find one hour’s salary, or whatever amount you can in your budget, and help restore sanity to a devastated country.”

I’m not sure when the maxim came into being but being warned to “Be careful what you wish for…” probably was in circulation back in 1170 when King Henry II pondered aloud over his problem with Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury. “Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest?” is what the king was purported to have said loud enough to ignite the imaginations of four knights who promptly fulfilled the ruler’s wish by murdering Becket as he knelt in prayer.
Last week’s anniversary of that centuries-old scandal came too late to serve as a reminder to three American Evangelical Christian missionaries who gave a series of talks in Kampala, Uganda last March that focused on the threat traditional family values faced from homosexuals and the so-called homosexual agenda. Scott Lively, author of “Seven Steps to Recruit-Proof Your Child” joined with Exodus International’s Don Schmierer and Caleb Lee Brundidge to warn the Ugandans of the horrors that awaited those who ignored their collective counsel on the dangers of homosexuality in general and homosexuals in particular. (Exodus International is an organization committed to urging homosexuals to forego their lifestyles. Caleb Brundidge is a self-proclaimed “former gay-man”.)
In any case, the three crusaders may have got more than they wished for when, shortly after the men worked the faithful into a frenzy, the government of Uganda began considering legislation to make homosexuality a capital offense. The resultant threats from America and others of reduced aid to the impoverished African country forced the Ugandan government to back off from threatening to execute homosexuals and now promise only to imprison them for life.
Such systematized homophobia may be abhorrent to most of us but it is the logical extension of the kind of rhetoric employed by many of those involved in anti-homosexual activities. From snide remarks to sermonic rants, the words of condemnation can quickly morph into a rationale for insidious action. Although the three evangelists now appear to be both apologetic and appalled by what came of their preaching, they also seem to have underestimated the power of persuasion, particularly when it has the backing of God. Mr. Lively wrote in his blog last March:
“The Ugandan people are strongly pro-family, and there is a large Christian population which is much more activist minded than that of most western countries. However, the international gay movement has devoted a lot of resources to transforming the moral culture from a marriage-based one to one that embraces sexual anarchy. Just as in the U.S. many years ago they are leading with pornography to weaken the moral fiber of the people, and propagandizing the children behind the parent’s backs. On the TV show we exposed a book distributed to schools by UNICEF that normalizes homosexuality to teenagers. (We expect a massive protest by parents, who are mostly not aware that such materials even exist in their country, let alone in their children’s classrooms.)”
When the “massive protest” turned to demands to execute all homosexuals the Christians claim to be shocked. “I feel duped,” is how Mr. Schmierer put it. “Some of the nicest people I have ever met are gay people.” Nice, but damned according to the doctrine and if damned then, logic would have it, deserving of eternal punishment and if deserving of punishment in the next life, why not in this life as well? How about a nice Ugandan “massive protest” to show them we mean business? Oops. Sorry.
The language of exclusion and damnation can be powerful motivators among those who find hating their enemies much easier than loving them. The recent murder of the medical director of a Wichita women’s health clinic, Dr. George Tiller, by an anti-abortionist who still claims to have only done the work of God, is additional evidence that those who do the motivating must bear some responsibility for the resultant mayhem.
King Henry got his wish 840 years ago but the outcry over the archbishop’s murder quickly turned the people against him. In 1174, King Henry repented of his responsibility for Becket’s death and donned sack-cloth and ashes, walking through the streets of Canterbury while eighty monks ceremoniously whipped him with branches.
I can only wish that bit of ancient history serves as a modern warning to Messrs. Lively, Schmierer and Brundidge.

The Practicing Progressive

“You never ask questions when God’s on your side.”

Since Bob Dylan wrote those lyrics back in the early ‘60s he’s gone through a few transformations, religious and otherwise, but his words still resonate and seem even more appropriate today.

There was a gathering this past Wednesday in Pretoria, South Africa to celebrate the Day of the Vow by thousands of descendents of the racist Afrikaners. It was on December 16, 1838 that a group of white settlers from Europe promised God to remember the day forever if God would only allow a little slaughter of the natives to take place. And so it happened! Over 3000 black warriors were killed as they attacked the settlers. Only 3 Afrikaners were injured in the battle. And, as promised, the annual commemoration takes place complete with the recitation of the ancient vow. The news report I read in the New York Times included this comment: “We believe it was God’s will to have Christians lead the way in this land,” said Lukas de Kock, one of the leaders of Wednesday’s worship. “On that day, the Day of the Vow, God made a clear statement that this was his will for South Africa.”
It must be very comforting to the folk who still think apartheid was a good policy to know that God is as angry at Nelson Mandela as they are.

In like manner, our allies in Israel who continue to maintain the belief that God ordained their occupation of that sliver of land in the Middle East adamantly, even violently at times, defend their belief in God’s unquestionable mandate for their people.

And when one more Muslim suicide bomber detonates his body while crying out: "Allahu akhbar" (God is great), those who survive are reminded, once again, that some of the most dangerous people in the world are the ones who believe God is on their side.

Oral Roberts died this past week at the grand age of 91. Oral was a most successful purveyor of this same theological principle. Indeed, Roberts was so convinced that he and God were in such close communication that he once told his millions of followers that God would smite him dead if they didn’t come up with a substantial amount of cash by next Tuesday. The fact that they did what they were told and God subsequently didn’t do what he threatened only underscored everyone’s conviction that Oral and the Alpha-Omega were the best of buddies.

There have been many news reports that the U.S. Air Force academy in recent years suggested a similar alliance between the almighty and America. Some cadets even complained that they had been subjected to systematic campaigns to try and convince them that Christianity is a prerequisite for patriotism. A U.S. Air Force investigation in 2005 revealed that many of allegations were justified including a disturbing verification that the commandant made no apologies for his Christ and Country alignment, even introducing a “Jesus…Rocks” call and response chant to all the cadets. Those of you who follow football may remember the AFA’s coach calling his players the “Jesus’ Team”.

It makes sense, I suppose, to make sure the most powerful part of your arsenal is God, but it does seem more than a little self-serving to assume that the Great God Almighty always liked you best. Such thinking wouldn’t be of much comfort to the millions of innocent men and women, boys and girls, who have been obliterated by armies marching in the name of God.

With Christmas right around the corner, it may behoove those of us who claim to be Christians to stop and ponder another verse from Dylan’s perceptive musical poem:
“In a many dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss.
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.”

The Practicing Progressive

It used to be one of my favorite anecdotes. It concerned a confrontation many years back between Henry Kissinger, then Secretary of State, and The Reverend William Coffin, then chaplain at Yale University. They were arguing over the U.S. involvement in Vietnam. The discussion was growing more and more heated until finally the Secretary said, “OK Bill, you tell me how to bring this war to an end!” Whereupon the noted cleric announced, “My job is to proclaim that ‘justice must roll down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.’ Your job, Mr. Kissinger, is to work out the details of the irrigation system.”

I always liked how the role of the political critic or in this case, the religious prophet, left the resolution of the particular problem to others and was free to go on his merry way pointing out other issues with equal contempt for the difficult details of resolution. I still think there is a role for the critic/prophet in today’s world but I am less inclined to allow them the luxury Pastor Coffin claimed. Although I continue to want to be made aware of the many injustices that plague our planet, I am giving less credence to those who only complain and much more to those willing to find solutions.

I suspect most Americans are growing tired of the endless stonewalling of legislation by the nay-sayers in Congress. Countless childish strategies are being employed by those who didn’t get their way in the last election to make sure that no progress is made in solving our national problems by those who did. One can’t help but wonder if such partisanship is really the way our democracy is intended to work…with one side seeking constructive remedies and the other side precluding any progress. A nation that ranks 37th in the world in health care should, it would seem, be eagerly involved in rectifying the situation. Instead we have such dispiriting tactics as this one reported by Alan Grayson (D-FL) who describes how Congressmen/women vote with electronic voting cards. In recent weeks, many from the minority party have claimed to “lose” their cards and so slow the voting process down to a crawl. Grayson says, “They’d all walk to the front of the House and, laughingly and jokingly, put their arms around each other’s shoulder like it was some kind of clownish fun. And they did this over and over to make sure every vote took half an hour. That’s how low things have gotten. I could give you countless examples just like that. They’re simply obstructionists and there’s nothing you can do about it.’’

Remembering how Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC) bragged, "If we’re able to stop Obama on this (Health Care) it will be his Waterloo. It will break him." We cannot be blamed for thinking that the once noble concept of “loyal opposition” has devolved into schoolyard bullying. I am not so naïve to think that such despicable behavior hasn’t been perpetrated by politicians from both parties but in this time of national crisis we all should demand something better.

And speaking of crises, President Obama announced that we will be increasing our Afghanistan troop involvement by 30,000 shortly. (Troop involvement, by the way and just in case anyone is confused, means actual men and actual women in uniform…sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, many just boys and girls.) As many have already commented, the president had to make a difficult choice from a list of bad alternatives. The careful and prolonged process he used to reach his decision, although it frustrated many, was a welcome relief from the impulsive and irresponsible actions of his past predecessor. Nevertheless, the president’s decision is a disappointment especially for those of us old enough to clearly remember the political rationale employed that eventually brought us to our knees in Vietnam. Although no one can predict the outcome, many fear that this response only delays the inevitable political chaos that will come to Afghanistan when American troops finally pull out. I certainly hope President Obama continues to listen to constructive and helpful criticism as he carries out his plan.

Like Bill Coffin, I do believe it is government’s job to “work out the details of the irrigation system” but unlike Bill, I’m not so sure just quoting a religious prophet is all that we critics need do.

The Practicing Progressive

Bah! Humbug!

One does run the risk of being called “Scrooge” for offering a critique of the sacred cows of our culture during this season of the year but, for reasons that may be apparent to some, this year especially, I happily pursue the gamble.

Our nation’s growing numbers of atheists are making their presence known this Christmas with campaigns in various cities promoting a different approach to this time of year. Displayed on buses and billboards in Washington D.C., for instance, is the following: “No god?...No problem! Be good for goodness sake.”
Such secular sentiment is sure to raise the ire of many religionists who understandably, if mistakenly, assume that Christmas should be reserved for Christians. But it appears those who don’t share the same doctrinal understandings, or any doctrine for that matter, want a share of the holiday spirit.

According to Roy Speckhardt, the executive director of the American Humanist Association (quoted in the New York Times 12-1-09): “We don’t intend to rain on anyone’s parade, but secular people celebrate the holidays, too, and we’re just trying to reach out to our people. To the degree that we are reaching out to the godly, it’s just to say that you can be good without god. So their atheist neighbor down the street shouldn’t be vilified as though he is immoral.”

The idea that someone can be good without God seems especially galling to some folk who have managed to manipulate their particular divine into declaring that there is only one way of being in God’s good graces and they just happen to have a monopoly on it. But to those who believe the heavenly life is experienced more by doing good deeds rather than just believing good thoughts, the atheists have a point. Santa was right. Being good is its own reward.

Recent studies are indicating that the altruistic impulse is not just morally compelling but physically healing as well. In one, it was found that elderly people who volunteered four hours each week were 44% less likely to die during the study period. (Buck Institute for Age Research). In another, reported in Psychology Today, surveys of over 3000 women who volunteered regularly revealed these women experienced a sense of well-being similar to vigorous exercise or meditation.

The opportunity this year to get up close and personal with Ebenezer Scrooge at the Lake Dillon Theatre has offered me insight into the transformation of this woefully unhappy man. Scrooge’s conversion is instigated not by religious doctrine, as noble as it may or may not be, but through a confrontation with his own humanity. His recognition of a wasted life is not a capitulation to a particular creed but the recognition of a universal truth. Our lives grow in value as we value the lives of others.

Back when I spent my days counseling Christians, I would occasionally be taken aback by someone expressing their chagrin over a God who welcomed everyone into the heavenly family. “What’s the point in being a Christian then?” some would ask indignantly and thus reveal their failure to understand the spiritual truth that doing good is its own reward. Any system, religious or not, that promotes the value of altruism understands the true meaning of Christmas…which is why I find the current campaign by our atheist friends and neighbors to be a most appropriate approbation of our culturally conflicted Christmas season.

“God (or not) bless us, everyone!”

The Practicing Progressive

I am well aware that the Christmas season officially began yesterday with midnight madness sales kicking off a hoped for spending spree that will reignite our communal, if latent, consuming impulse and thus save our world from economic collapse. Go for it. I am definitely opposed to economic collapses.
But as we are all going about saving the world, I thought it might be of some interest to explore some of the theological underpinnings of our upcoming holiday. While I recognize that not all participants in the Christmas season would care to align themselves with Christianity right now, and judging from the headlines out of Ireland, one can certainly understand why, I offer the following bits of Biblical trivia along with one rather shocking hypothesis to invite you into a deeper appreciation for this once religious festival.
The Bible, like all sacred texts, was written to describe a particular understanding of reality. In my case, as a Christian, it begins with the understanding of an ancient religious tradition known today as Judaism. The Hebrew Scripture or what is often referred to as the Old Testament is the cumulative work of a particular religion’s attempt to understand who they are and what life is all about. Christianity emerged out of Judaism with a reinterpretation of some of the Hebrew Scripture to proclaim a new understanding of how God is at work in the world through Jesus. This reinterpretation is found in the second part of the Bible that Christians call the New Testament.
Now there are a number of issues that need to be dealt with before one can even begin to get a grasp of how the Bible, both Hebrew and Christian, should be understood. The first is language. I know this may come as a surprise to some, but the Bible wasn’t written in English, King James’ or otherwise. The Hebrew scripture was written in Hebrew but was translated into the Greek several hundred years before Jesus. So the early Christians used a Greek translation of the original texts to interpret this new understanding of the ancient Hebrew. The New Testament was written in Greek but we have to remember that Jesus’ language was Aramaic and although he may have been able to read and write in Greek and/or Hebrew he spoke in a different language than how it was eventually written down. Do you begin to see the problem here? Anyone who has traveled to a foreign country knows some of the difficulties around translating what you want to say to someone who doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying!
Again, Jesus spoke in Aramaic not Greek. We are told that Jesus once said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Of course, camels don’t go through needles…not even teeny-weeny camels. But in Aramaic the word for camel and the word for rope are almost identical. So did Jesus say it is harder for a camel to go through the eye of a needle or a rope to go through the eye of a needle? One is impossible the other may have a little wiggle room. The problem of translating Hebrew into Greek becomes even more apparent in the famous passage from Isaiah of the Hebrew Scripture that Matthew used in writing about the birth of Jesus in the Christian Scripture. Matthew used the Greek translation of the original Hebrew when he quoted Isaiah 7:14 to describe the miraculous conception of Jesus…”A virgin will conceive and bear a son and his name shall be called Emmanuel.” Only in the original Hebrew the word is “almah” which is never understood in Hebrew as virgin but rather a young woman. Somewhat shockingly perhaps, a whole doctrine was developed around this mistranslation. My point is not to argue against the perpetual virginity of Mary or the biological eccentricities surrounding Jesus’ birth but rather to point out the incredible difficulties inherent in translations.
Then we have to confront the context of these writings. When were they written? Who wrote them and why? Much of the Hebrew Scripture emerged out of a tumultuous time of tribal warfare. Armies fought horrific battles each claiming, as we do today, that God or the gods are on one particular side. We have the writings of one of these groups. It is understandable that God is on the side of these particular authors, just as Allah is on the side of Islam. It all depends on your particular perspective. So ponder, if you’d like, the context of the birth stories of Jesus.
Palestine in the time of Jesus was an occupied country, much as it is today. Only back then the occupiers were Romans. If you know anything about history, you know that occupying forces do some pretty terrible things. They take over homes. They blow up schools. They enslave or kill men. And they often rape the women. This has been shown quite terribly in our own lifetime. We remember with horror the stories out of Bosnia and Serbia. The Vietnam War left hundreds maybe thousands of mixed-race children in its wake. It is a horrible but very real casualty of occupation.
Consider this possibility: the scandal of Mary’s pregnancy that Joseph so nobly responds to is not the result of a beatific blessing surrounded by cherubim and seraphim but a brutal rape by a Roman soldier.
The word is “mamzer”. It is a Hebrew word that means “of questionable birth” or “illegitimate child”. Some Bible scholars are suggesting that this is an accurate description of Jesus. They posit this thesis on some very intriguing evidence. A mamzer, you see, would be rejected in his own community, as Jesus most certainly was. A mamzer would be excluded from fully participating in the religious and cultural rituals of his tribe. A mamzer would be an outsider, a reject.
Over and over again in the Christian Scripture, Jesus can be seen reaching out to the outcast, welcoming those who were never welcomed, eating with the unclean, advocating that no one is excluded from the love of God. This is not the teachings of someone who led a privileged and economically enriched life but rather the teachings of an outsider, one who has been rejected by his religion, his culture, his community… a bastard, a mamzer.
So with that, I bid you go and shop. Our world certainly needs saving.

The Practicing Progressive

I still can’t decide if Lloyd Blankfein, multi-multi-millionaire and CEO of Goldman Sachs, was just being amazingly arrogant or distressingly stupid when he claimed last week to be “doing God’s work” as his company continued its reportedly ruthless reign at the top of America’s troubled financial institutions. I suppose his thinking is somewhere along the line of former General Motors’ CEO, Charlie Wilson, who, back in 1953, said, “…what was good for the country was good for General Motors and vice versa." As long, that is, as huge corporations continue to make huge profits, allowing whatever change is left over after paying even huger salaries to the staff to trickle down to the rest of America that manages to eek out an existence with a $50,303 per household median income. Mr. Blankfein’s eeking involves a $30 million apartment in Manhattan and an equally elaborate weekend place in the Hamptons but, after all, he claims to be doing God’s work and the disciples must be paid.
As my wife will quickly tell you, my expertise in money matters is limited to pushing the correct pin code into an ATM so I will refrain from further financial criticism. However, I think I can fairly claim a certain expertise in the theological field and so I am not hesitant to examine Mr. Blankfein’s statement in terms of its religious validity. After four years of post-graduate study and thirty years on the front lines of congregational life, I feel it only fair to wonder aloud as to the God to whom Mr. Blankfein is employed. From my study of both Hebrew and Christian scriptures, the God of Judeo-Christianity seems emphatically concerned with the welfare of society’s lower strata. Indeed, if there is a prejudice on the part of the divine, one would have to concede it is against the rich. Despite what some “prosperity preachers” claim, the God of the Bible is overwhelmingly opposed to wealth in the hands and pockets of the few. Of course, Mr. Blankfein may be worshiping some other God than the one described in Judeo-Christian tradition which is his right but someone should remind him that the holy practice of zakat, the fair distribution of wealth, is a fundamental principle of Islam, as well. And anyone even slightly familiar with Buddhism knows that the acquisition of great wealth can be a great impediment to true happiness.
This week we found out that the Center for Disease Control sent out significant quantities of H1N1 vaccine to Goldman Sachs to distribute among the executives and some of the employees. As everyone knows, this vaccine is in limited supply and has been designated primarily for the very vulnerable: young children, pregnant women and those with severe respiratory problems. One can only assume that Mr. Blankfein’s God is disturbingly devoid of any hint of compassion toward these threatened populations. That or there are truckloads of toddlers at Goldman Sachs pulling in some very big bucks.
After so many years in the religion business, I’ve grown more than a little weary of claims made on behalf of the Lord. Wearing a collar makes you an easy target for those wishing to share the most bizarre examples of God’s beneficence. Everything from winning ballgames to bullying children have been set before me as proof of divine delineating but nothing is more repugnant in my mind than the quite common assumption that one’s wealth is proof of one’s piety.
I have been fortunate in my life to know some very wealthy people whose understanding of their social responsibilities have made them sensitive to the plight of people whose situations are dramatically different than their own. They have used their wealth in a myriad of ways…from funding self-sustaining micro-businesses to building hospitals, from training budding Third-world entrepreneurs to running orphanages in Asia…and, as best as I can recall, not a one of them ever bragged that they were “doing God’s work.”

The Practicing Progressive

I have heard there are some people in America who actually take Sarah Palin seriously so I suppose I should report that all indications are that President Obama has not established a “Death Panel” expressly to decide if Ms. Palin’s granny is to live or die. However, grandma may not be entirely out of the woods.

Not too long ago, I found myself surrounded by fellow senior citizens adamantly declaring that they would never want to move in with their children no matter how dire their financial circumstances had become. Considering the state of most of our 401ks, I understood why many around me nodded their heads in worrisome agreement. Nevertheless, I found such passionate opposition to expanding family parameters more than a little curious. After all, we are only a generation or two removed from when grandma or grandpa was expected to be a part of the household. Indeed, my 90 year old mother was raised by her own grandmother who had been brought to America by Mom’s father, my grandpa, after his mother was widowed. From the time I was very young I heard stories of how “Grossmuter” cooked, cleaned and cuddled but never spoke a word of English in my mother’s childhood home.

Certainly such a scenario was not unique among my mother’s generation. A cursory look through any dusty family album will show how integrated grandparents were in the lives of their children and grandchildren. Shipping granny and grandpa off to institutional care is, in the scheme of things, a very recent development.

And what about this fervent desire among my peers to never depend upon their children for anything more than Thanksgiving dinner or a couple of hours sitting round the Christmas tree?

As a grandparent myself, I suppose my concern sounds a little self-serving and probably sends a collective shiver down the spines of my three kids but it does seem more than a little odd that such a dramatic change in family dynamics has taken place in such an extraordinarily short time.

Perhaps it is the inculcating of that uniquely American myth of rugged individualism that has finally managed to work its way into our senile psyches, convincing us we can and must go it alone right down to the end. Recent advertisements on TV and magazines reinforce this mindset. “Will you run out of money before you run out of breath?” goes the underlying message and we oldies are left convinced that nothing could be worse.

It may be that a similar sense of shame is being used to fuel the fanatical opposition to any national health care plan. The very thought of relying on the generosity of others or, perhaps even worse, sharing such largesse with others, fuels this absurd animosity toward a reasonable health care policy that is merely in keeping with every other developed nation in the world.

As long as I am psychoanalyzing, could the absurd amounts of money spent on the last few weeks of an elderly man or woman’s life be the direct result of the guilt felt by descendents who have neglected the one who is dying when he or she was much more fully alive?

In Asia, things are done a little differently. In fact, caring for one’s parents is still the paramount feature of Chinese culture. Rooted in Confucianism’s veneration of the elderly, nothing is more important to a son or daughter than the well-being of their parents. The expectation that a parent would be ashamed to live with his or her offspring is beyond that culture’s comprehension. In China, at least, we oldies are seen as a blessing rather than a burden. (All of which makes me extremely grateful I have a Chinese-American son-in-law.)

“It takes a village to raise a child” is how that famous African saying goes but one can’t help but worry how that child will fare if Gramps is spending his days on an Arizona golf course and Nana is nowhere to be found.