Category: Religion

Throughout the whole of my life, I have felt outside the norm.  The Methodism of my boyhood preached that, as a devout Christian, I should expect to be frequently misunderstood, feared, and at times distrusted by the rest of society.  Based on my Southern roots and the political convictions I grew to espouse, in addition to the company I kept, I continued to feel out of step with the majority point of view in all kinds of ways.  If this was supposed to be an essential component of living the Christian life, then it was not a difficult one to adopt.  When, years later, I became a Quaker, it wasn’t hard at all to accept that many would not comprehend what I believed.  Shortly before I converted, I read a book front to cover which stated that Friends were used to being thought of as peculiar and eccentric.  Those words cemented my decision to become a Convinced Friend.  For years I wore a nonconformist’s identity like a badge of honor, though my secret desire, barely even vocalized to myself, was always that I might find greater acceptance and understanding.  Having achieved this, I believe that I would find the comfort granted to those not consistently marginalized and discounted by the majority.  

Rebellion and Revolution are so yesterday. No sense to rebel and revolt today. Those strategies of yesteryear are doomed to fail in the present day. Power is greater and people are as dumb as ever. Trust in Big Daddy. Bear hugs and poontang. Shiny and happy. Better safe than sorry. Where is democracy in the modern age? Politicians do the opposite of what voters want. People clamor for change because things aren’t so hot right now. Politicians sell change like celebrities sell soap. They don’t even use the stuff. It’s all show biz. Kabuki-square-dance-mambo-tap. Ignore the footwork but enjoy the big smile.  

Rebellion and Revolution fail today because State Power, which, contrary to propaganda, is not demotic, public power, but private, corporate/military power, has gone quantum. Exponential. People get focus groups, free-speech zones, opinion polls and Tupperware parties. Think G.I. Joe versus Mr. Whipple.

The only way out of our indentured servitude of consumer debt and ambivalent obedience is not through revolution, but renaissance. Revival. Reboot. Re-imagine. The freedom to dream and create.

The Geek usually does not write about history, but he will make an exception.  First, Easter this year coincides with my father’s birthday.  He was born on this date in 1919.  If he were still alive, he would have just turned 91 years old.  My granddad on his side lived to that age.

Second, Easter is by proclamation the highest of the Holy Days in the Christian tradition.  Christmas is also joyful, but everyone is borne and only One has, as tradition and religion insists, been resurrected.

Third, the Fulbright College of Arts and Sciences insisted on a well rounded education before anyone could be graduated.  Whilst I am a scientist, I appreciate literature, art, architecture, and especially history.

On a historical note, today is the date on which Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968.  On a more personal historical note, my father would have been 91 today, but he died in 2005.

Today is Good Friday and as a result I pause to reflect upon a particularly crucial passage of the story that is as frequently misunderstood as it is frequently quoted.  In it, the actions and responses of the principle players still speak to us, even 2,000 years later.  The impetus and motivation upon which Judas makes the ignoble decision to betray Jesus lies with this anecdote.  I cite it today in an attempt to put the impeding Crucifixion in context.  Chronologically the verses fall shortly before Palm Sunday, where Jesus rode triumphantly into Jerusalem to the adoration of thousands of cheering supporters.  Jesus has stopped to rest at Lazarus’ house, the man who he had but recently raised from the dead.      

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.  But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.”

He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.  “Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “[It was intended] that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial.  You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

Judas was a Zealot, a member of a Jewish political movement devoted to the removal of the occupying Roman Empire by any means necessary.  At first, Judas assumed that the Kingdom which Jesus talked about was an earthly one to be established after a violent conflict.  However, once he discovered that the Kingdom of Heaven was a spiritual state arrived at neither through violence, nor through material gain, Judas made the decision to betray Him.  Judas’ primary devotion was to money and profit, and thus his own selfishness belied his rationalization.  

Some have believed over the centuries that Jesus meant that there would always be poverty and that we ought not to worry about it.  This is not the case at all.  In honesty, I have always felt that Jesus’ response in this situation is directed squarely towards activists, particularly those on the Left.  So often we justify our actions and deeds under the guise of piety.  It is easy to make a great show out of doing what is best for the less fortunate, especially when our true motives are neither noble nor especially charitable.  But there’s also a second dynamic at play too, the idea that our own human desires to help people are subordinate to God’s plan for us.  It is as if Jesus is saying “You’ll always have some excuse or some reason to seem socially conscious.  After all, the “poor” will always be with you.  If it isn’t the “poor” today, it’ll be something else tomorrow.”  If it isn’t Darfur today it’ll be Katrina, and if it isn’t Katrina, it’ll be Haiti.

Good intentions quickly become obscured by profit, accumulation, and a desire to win the adulation and approval of others.  We fight against the injustice of the world, but often are distracted from the ultimate mission at hand by worldly temptations.  Mostly we wish to superimpose our own will and our own itinerary upon the work we do for others, and I imagine God laughs as He brushes that aside.  As for me, so long as I follow that voice inside myself that is God and is divinely inspired, I will never go wrong.  When I deviate from that guidance and that surety of purpose for whatever reason, then I find myself running into complications and frustrating situations with no resolution.  God’s plan for me might be scary at times, but it is never confusing or unclear.

For many people it is difficult to have faith in something that is unfamiliar or cannot be comfortingly explained by reason or readily available information.  Humanity is, as we know, inherently mortal and inherently flawed, so missteps and problems are inevitable.  Perhaps the best perfection we can achieve is that of complete trust and obedience to a guidance beyond ourselves, one that will not always place us in comfortable spaces, but will certainly always ensure that we are learning and growing.  Our resistance is often designed as a means of preventing ourselves from being uncomfortable or braving the unfamiliar, but to be guided by God never promises the easy way out.  We can take comfort not that we will always have all the answers, but that we can reach a point where we know that answers will be granted in due time, and in the meantime we will never be given a greater burden than we can handle.  In many respects, this is almost Zen-like in its application.                

I wish that someday the “poor” might not be with us, as I recognize that there will always be work to do and that inequality and injustice are unlikely to leave us any time soon.  May we resolve to help those who need it with a singular purpose of service, setting aside anything else we might wish in the process.  That which we need will be provided.  We have everything at our disposal that we could possibly ever want, and my prayer is that someday we’ll believe it.  

The Catholic Church and Pope Benedict XVI are in trouble. As more information comes to light about how the church, under Vatican orders, shielded priests that molested children, more lawsuits are being filed against them. In particular is a lawsuit filed in Kentucky seeking class-action status against the Vatican itself.

VATICAN CITY – Dragged deeper than ever into the clerical sex abuse scandal, the Vatican is launching a legal defense that it hopes will shield the pope from a lawsuit in Kentucky seeking to have him answer attorneys’ questions under oath.

The response by the Vatican is, to say the least, predictable:

Court documents obtained Tuesday by The Associated Press show that Vatican lawyers plan to argue that the pope has immunity as head of state, that American bishops who oversaw abusive priests weren’t employees of the Vatican, and that a 1962 document is not the “smoking gun” that provides proof of a cover-up.

But, buried in the story, is that the Vatican also plans to use the “torture” defense.

“If Pope Benedict XVI is ordered to testify by a U.S. court, foreign courts could feel empowered to order discovery against the president of the United States regarding, for example, such issues as CIA renditions,” Lena wrote in a 2008 brief.

At the outset of the Tea Party demonstrations, comparisons were made to The Civil War by myself and other people. In retrospect, this was far too generous a comparison to make. I hardly wish to grant such people so high a compliment, even one rendered ignobly. In much more eloquent terms than I, people have recently dissected the motives and behavior of the mob, and fortunately its crackpot ideology is not as widespread as was the secessionist sentiment in the South in 1860. Those times were the apex of more than two decade’s worth of upheaval and violence, the likes of which we have yet to see since, and which I hope to never see again. It takes more than just one unpopular bill to give people cause to most citizens to arm themselves en masse in open rebellion. Many may not support health care reform, but they feel no compulsion to vandalize offices, spit on legislators, and hurl epithets. These are merely the actions of a few reactionary imbeciles.

The behavior of the Republican Party towards the Teabaggers, by contrast, is what I find most reprehensible. Never was a mutually parasitic relationship more shockingly transparent. The GOP sees the Tea Party as its meal ticket back to power and will never condemn its tactics outright since doing so risks losing its endorsement. However, it is a slippery slope that Republicans are scaling here, and making a Faustian bargain has proven to be the eventual undoing of many. Fear of change and fear of the unknown is the energy source of this movement, but it goes much deeper than this, too.

The stress of the past few weeks has reminded me of both the benefits and the drawbacks of being an adult.  Perhaps you yourself can relate.  Throughout the course of my daily existence, I expend a huge amount of energy attempting to navigate the world of interpersonal communication.  Often I have to take account for the frailties, neuroses, personality defects, and defense mechanisms of those with whom I regularly encounter.  It can at times be overwhelming and frustrating trying to not step on toes or to minimize conflict by means of damage control mode when I inadvertently do so.  And as cobble together an apology and take stock of the situation, I find myself resenting the cruelty and sadism of humanity, which gives many people ample reason to build walls around themselves by means of protection.  These attitudes only complicate crucial communication and trust and keep us separate from each other.

The anger of the Tea Party devotees upsets me, but what upsets me more is the degree of hostility and bitterness that has come to typify this entire process.  I recognize that expecting otherwise is probably foolish, but I mourn when our nation’s fabric is rent asunder for any reason.  Though this sentiment has long sense passed into platitude, we are all Americans, and moreover we are all human beings who share the same land.  I do not enjoy, nor particularly thrive in an atmosphere where a ceaseless war of words rages.  To be sure, I do not shirk away from these situations when they arise, but after a time the constant back and forth proves to be toxic and noxious, not just to me, but to everyone.  

I didn’t have an especially happy childhood.  Even when I was a child, I wished to be an adult.  Adulthood to me represented a time where I would be taken seriously and where everyone else around me would be more or less on the same page.  Now I find that this is true only up to a point.  Among some I am taken seriously and among other I never will be.  And as for my being on the same page with all, well, that’s a matter for debate.  What I have discovered that with age often comes a rapidly growing history of psychological damage, increasingly guarded personal conduct, and all of these manifestations a form of the many lingering effects of internalized pain.  Anger is really only a form of hurt, after all.

Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them.  Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

I understand why many people enjoy working with children.  They are unguarded, honest, vulnerable, and often endearingly sweet.  Their basic nature stands in great contrast to the games we play as adults.  When I still lived in Birmingham I would periodically take my turn to watch the children while the adults worshiped.  When I did, I often found solace in the company of little ones who were largely nonjudgmental and lived only in the present moment.  This isn’t to say that children can’t be just as cruel and vicious to each other as adults can, but that in conversing with them, one has less minefields to gingerly walk through and less need to plan for exit strategies.      

Forgive me this question, but, friends, why must it be this complicated?  What if we didn’t have to read the latest New York Times bestseller just to understand how to properly interact with each other?  What if it didn’t take hours of therapy and thousands of dollars just to be able to be honest with our own pain and ourselves, to say nothing of the pain of others?  What if we could bear to leave the armor down long enough to separate friend from foe?  While some find it fascinating to observe and note the ways in which we are twisted and wizened, noting the unique nature of our scars, I find the combined impact deeply unfortunate and tragic.  People to me are not a scientific experiment gone awry, they are individuals seeking love.  And by love I don’t necessarily mean romantic love, but agape—charitable, selfless, altruistic, and unconditional love for ourselves and for others.  If we are ever going to begin the slow, but necessary process of healing, we must commit ourselves to it, all the time recognizing that the best offense isn’t necessarily a good defense.

Let us resolve to be honest with that which is broken in all of us.  Throw open the doors wide.  Don’t automatically reach for cynicism and skepticism in all situations, nor expect the worst for fear of not attaining the best.  Don’t recoil and draw back at someone else’s immaturity or hurt directed in inappropriate ways towards inappropriate targets.  Consider being like little children in all the best ways.  Perhaps peace of mind isn’t so elusive after all.  What do we have to lose?  

On the Limits of Tax-Exempt Status

Some of you know that a few weeks ago my hubby and I flew out to Oklahoma to help get Mom-in-law moved into assisted living due to some issues with failing eyesight, short-term memory non-existence and refusal to use a walker (resulting in her falling down a lot). Hubby’s family were lifelong Presbyterians by faith, his Mom and Dad were both Elders in the tiny church behind their house. My Dad returned to his family’s association with the Presbyterian church after retiring from the Navy, following some lengthy investigation of various denominations. My husband and I attended the same Presbyterian church as teenagers and young adults, though our attendance at any church over recent years has been reserved to weddings and funerals.

Now, the thing about protestantism is that it’s got a denomination for whatever flavor of natural inclination a person’s got. If your nature is parliamentarian nit-picking and resolution by argument, Presbyterianism is your cup of tea. If your nature is lightning-like bliss and gibberish, a Pentecostal or other “holy roller” denomination will serve. If you’re a liberal-minded type fond of social issues, some of the reformed orthodox denominations will be satisfying. And if you’re a hard right WingNut type Republican Talibangelist harboring too much leftover racism, the SBC [Southern Baptist Conference] churches are made to order.

My husband’s brother Joe “found God” some years ago as a result of a debilitating back injury and a lot of pain, subsequently immersed himself in the Baptist tradition of his wife’s family, and eventually made it through all the hoops to become a full-fledged Baptist preacher. And he’s a darned good one too – full of spirit, witty and amiable, stern when he needs to be, committed to working tirelessly in the various conference disaster relief operations, great with children, and inspiring if you’re into that sort of thing. He’s also the only Republican in the family and a social conservative of the extreme theocratic variety.

As part of a recent assignment, I was required to write up short, snappy summaries of candidates who are running this election cycle for political office.  In so doing, I had to make sure to showcase their legislative accomplishments as well as to provide a bit of the personal to ensure that they seemed human and approachable, rather than robotic policy wonks.  In the course of my work, what I couldn’t help but notice was that, regardless of how Progressive a candidate claimed to be, he or she was always very careful to highlight his/her strong support of the military and of those who either currently served or had served in times past.  To back up this claim, close family members and other relatives who had served in combat were visibly invoked, as were the specific bills proposed to assist both veterans and military families.  This deliberate posturing was true to a person, even candidates who were bold enough to promote themselves as peace-loving doves.

As a rule, Quakers are strict believers in pacifism.  Though I was not born into the faith, I have often attempted to reconcile my original thoughts on war with those which I believe now.  I find, as is sometimes the case, that the two of them are often in conflict.  Those who have studied wars in much detail, as I have, know that there is something about them that translates well to stirring narrative and romantic retelling.  In time, the horror of battle subsides, as well as its impact upon the civilians caught in the middle, and we are left with a sort of gloried nostalgia that any sports fan can understand as he or she recalls in conversation some past victory and close defeat.  Perhaps this is what Robert E. Lee meant when he said, “It is well that war is so terrible — lest we should grow too fond of it.”

Two choices lay before me.  I could go out of my way to mention that this particular section of the work went against my religious beliefs, but doing so would draw attention to myself, perhaps unduly and to no good end.  I would then be obligated to specify why I found it so objectionable, and while I have no doubt that my reservations would be noted and taken seriously, I’m not really sure that anyone would truly understand why I found the matter so odious and offensive.  Or, instead, I could choose complete the task in full, not feeling especially good about it, and simply pass the baton to someone else so that it would no longer be my problem anymore.  I regret to report that I chose the latter, since delegating an additional task to someone else already overburdened with work would cause delays and potentially result in resentment from whomever had to pick up where I left off.  

Life, of course, is full of such compromises.  I have no doubt that those of you reading this have run up against similar circumstances in your own lives.  It may be a simple matter of, pardon the expression, knowing how and where to pick our battles.  Few of us are fortunate enough to have the ability to be purists in all circumstances.  In politics, only those fortunate few who run for office in cities, districts, or states overwhelmingly in support of one particular way of thinking ever truly get the ability to present a public face anything in line with their own private convictions.  The game of politics as we know it states, in part, that one is only really indebted to one’s last position statement, and moreover, anything said today can be compellingly rationalized away tomorrow if needed.  It isn’t just politicians who have a genius for rationalization.  Humans have managed to become masters at the process.      

Returning to the earlier point, my own inward leanings against war of any sort take me once again to the Sermon on the Mount and those old, familiar passages that many have committed to heart.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.  

Jesus doesn’t equivocate here.  He doesn’t give us any wiggle room.  He doesn’t say, “Forgive your enemies, unless you’re in danger of losing your job.”  He doesn’t say, “Some of you were taught that if someone were to pluck out your eye, you have a right to pluck out theirs in retaliation, but don’t do that, unless, of course, the laws on the books tell you otherwise.”  He doesn’t say, “Love those who hate you, but I certainly concede that there are some people who simply aren’t able to be loved without turning on you.”  Jesus wasn’t exactly someone who practiced the art of Triangulation or who talked out of both sides of his mouth.        

Emerson famously mentioned that to be great was to be misunderstood and I have always been uncomfortable with the phrasing and the sentiment.  It can be easily construed as a justification for egotistical conduct and as a crutch to forgive deplorable behavior.  I’d much rather put it another way alogether.  To be a servant, putting yourself last and service to your fellow person first, is to be misunderstood.  To live a spiritual life is to be misunderstood.  To chart a course between pragmatism and idealism is to be misunderstood as well, but don’t forget that to be fully misunderstood is to stick to your convictions even when others don’t understand them.  After all,  

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the humble, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons and daughters of God.

“Blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

These words are as shocking now as they were then and just as applicable.

After meeting this morning I was approached by a Friend (fellow Quaker) who seemed deeply impressed at my latest vocal ministry. The first question she asked was “So, how long have you been here?”

I suppose I could have taken some offense to this, based on the fact that I’ve shared messages regularly, with a five month break in between, for nearly a year and a half. Though we had never talked directly, I knew her face and I certainly knew her through her words and her participation in First Day worship. That it took a particularly powerful message to give her the inclination to speak to me at all is something I lament. After all, I never know what message the Light of God is going to grant me from week to week, and while certainly I am pleased when it makes a major impact upon the worship service, any message I speak is no more or no less blessed nor inspired by the Divine.

Part of what I’m dealing with, unfortunately, is ageism. In surveying a very large cross-sample of faith communities, I have discovered that they are often disproportionately comprised of the middle aged and above and sometimes comprised almost exclusively of senior citizens. To their credit, I recognize that many faith groups have taken the initiative to address this directly and have coined acronyms, buzz words, and clever titles to draw more younger worshipers into the fold. The intent is often noble, but the follow through is frequently less than a rousing success.

The reality is that when you’re in an older community, it’s a lot more difficult to be taken seriously as a young person. As has been evident with me, you have to really prove yourself first. So far as “young” is concerned, I’m only a few months away from 30, so I’m not exactly fresh out of adolescence anymore, but even those of us quickly entering the third decade of existence are all too often not nearly as involved or even as inclined to share vocal ministry or actively participate in meeting functions. I, of course, am different in that regard, quite deliberately so, and while I appreciate the fact that my regular participation often encourages those in my general age range to show up, I am also often the only person younger than say, 45, who feel comfortable or moved to share a message. I know that there are others my age who would not shy away from opening their mouths and sharing with the rest of the meeting their own inward, equally valid stirrings of the Light.

If only this phenomenon pertained purely to faith communities. It is true in many organizations, regardless of political allegiance, ideology, cause, or any other metric. Just as before, those who are younger than the statistical mean often have to deeply impress the regular participants before they are considered part of the whole. If they are incorporated at all, they are sometimes included merely as an afterthought or as a token member, meant to serve as the entire voice of a generation, when surely we have realized by now that one person alone can never serve as the mouthpiece for a very diverse, highly unique group of people, regardless of their superficial similarities.

I recognize, certainly, that this is a habit pattern more than any desire to exclude. It’s easy for us to get lulled into submission by The Way Things Have Always Been Here™. This is why I am not particularly outraged by this sort of behavior as much as simply annoyed and inspired to speak out against it. It wouldn’t take much to correct this kind of willful slumber if we were willing to embrace the idea that change is neither incomprehensible, nor threatening, nor some sort of zero sum game whereby we somehow lose what we have at the expense of someone else. We all gain from opening our eyes a bit wider and with that comes the richness of greater participation and the wealth of insight which exists when many different people contribute their own voices and their own experiences.

We might recognize then that we are made stronger and more enlightened, not less so when we see the beauty of life’s pallet projected upon a canvass of our own creation. We might understand that there is more that links us together based on our common humanity than the few superficial differences exploited by those who aim to keep us separate, not just from ourselves, but also from God, who craves our collective unity as much as he loves each of us equally and without condition. If we learn these lessons, we will have that which drives us and propels us forward towards the change we know we must have.

My prayer is, as it has always been, that we will reach this point, someday.

Well, the American Family Association, that bastion of truth, has stopped taking its own comments from users.  To comment there, now one has to sign up for a Facebook account or your word is not noted, nor can one read other comments.

I am not completely surprised, but I thought that they might be more honest a site, like ‘Dharma and Kos.  But, then again, no.