Tag: Jesus

I’d rather not entertain current events for a while, and instead tell you a bit more about the Quaker Young Adult gathering I recently attended.  Primarily this is because it is supremely depressing to contemplate the oil spill.  The beaches on Alabama’s Gulf Coast that I visited every summer as a child and young teen might be forever changed as wave after wave of oil washes ashore.  I may return to that at another time, but right now I am avoiding even thinking about it because it hits so close to home.  Returning to my original point, there are so many stories to share I hardly know where to begin, but I’ll start with one and go from there.

Nine months spent in Washington, DC, has provided valuable insight.  Beltway insiders and area professions are their own breed.  As I’ve gotten my sea legs, more and more of their world makes sense to me.  Once I arrived here that I was immediately given some particularly infuriating advice, namely that other people were just as smart as I was, if not smarter, and that I ought to get used to it.  I think he assumed I was just like everyone else—the latest newcomer eager to play the game in a town with more than its share of naked ambition and power plays.  Perhaps he was the latest candidate for burnout, having recognized that institutional idealism is often an exercise in minutia.  Though my background and my academic career may be relatively humble, I am no stranger to elitism when I see it, and I am just as repulsed by it now as I ever was.

So much of my life I spend cynically griping about the bad side of human nature.  The work I do every day frequently centers around a ceaseless source of constant frustration.  Seeking strategies to reform destructive behaviors is the basic skill set of many professions and basic activism.  Influencing people so that they might understand the correct means of conducting their lives is a substantial challenge and a constant energy drain.  I’m sure many of you understand this quandary all too well.  While it is true that we all possess a dark side, some more than others, recent events in my life have provided a unexpected but welcome sense of clarity and perspective. I note with joy over the past three days that I have, much to my great surprise, seen the very best in people.  Once again I am humbled to have been proven incorrect in my assumptions about others.

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 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?  

It is a truism that leaders are few and followers are numerous.  This is itself an inequality that we don’t often contemplate, nor feel any compulsion to amend by direct action.  No flurry of blog postings or activist group with a message statement to convey has ever proposed that we ought to consider revising this important discrepancy.  This may be because the gap itself is likely a construct of biology, for whatever reason.  One wishes perhaps the numbers would be a bit more balanced, certainly not flip-flopped, since if most of us were leaders, we’d never get anything accomplished.  In that regard, herding cats might be putting it lightly.  Still, as it stands, for whatever reason, those who lead hold minority status and as such they often easily manage to attract followers to their causes and private bandwagon.  It is another paradox of human behavior that while most minorities find reduced numbers much to their detriment, those who lead find the fact that they are relatively few in number much to their benefit.    

We always seem to return to the example of the Great Man or Great Woman, the almost superhuman being who through his or her personal skill fixes all outstanding problems and provides mass unity.  We should really know better than to expect that one single person could save us from ourselves, but to some extent, it isn’t surprising why can so easily opt for this belief.  Two thousand plus years of a Christ-centered framework leads us to expect that a Messiah will rescue us, whether we acknowledge it consciously or not.  This is true whether we’re Christian, Jewish, or not a person of faith at all.  I myself recognize that I’m still waiting for Jesus to return, and would gladly fall at his feet to offer my assistance if I knew for certain he had returned.  If the Second Coming arrived, some would doubt to the very end, some would desire proof, and some would resist altogether purely for their own reasons.  Many, however, would breathe a sigh of relief, and quickly fall in line behind him.    

Recent developments with political leaders have showed what happens when power corrupts, temptation leads to bad decisions, or disappointment sets in when high hopes are not realized.  There is certainly enough fault to spread around if we seek to assign blame.  However, that is not exactly my intent with this post.  Nor am I seeking to absolve those who let their own shortcomings destroy the good will and good stead they formerly held.  With power, charisma, and charm comes temptation of all kinds–monetary gain and sexual gratification only but two of them.  I seek to bring light, in part, to the fact that those in leadership roles who court the adoration of the crowds, instantly reap all the benefits and all of the drawbacks in the process.  If I, for example, stand up before an attentive audience and impress them with the cogency of my arguments, the eloquence of my rhetoric, or otherwise strike a nerve, I can expect to receive compliments, flirtatious glances or conversation, and an instant kind of immediate attention and personal favor with those who until a moment before were complete strangers.  Everyone wants to be my friend, at least for that moment.

A close associate is fond of advancing a particular theory concerning this phenomenon.  His example concerns the immediacy of live music, but it works well in this context, too.  As he puts it, the reason we find it so easy to be attracted to to musicians, in particular, is that we see our own best qualities reflected in whomever is singing or playing.  A powerful emotional intimacy is present in that moment that perhaps speaks more to us and our condition than to those on stage.  This concept may wash over political leaders as well, particularly when on the stump, particularly when their personal charisma renders them something close to celebrity.  They inspire so much in us:  adoration, trust, envy, hope, desire, and so on.  That we would entrust them so willingly with all of these in the blink of an eye makes me wonder how anyone who stands out in front can survive for long, with or without the benefit of handlers.  It takes a tremendously strong person to not succumb to distraction, properly handle the stress, stay on message, and not get waylaid by a thousand wild goose chases.  It is precisely our demands upon which they must conform and though they never are allowed to forget, this doesn’t mean that they’re always in the easiest position to respond.  We expect much in return for our trust and our affections and the conditions of the transaction are both numerous and exacting.            

So long as we expect perfection from our leaders, we can never see them for their gloriously flawed humanity and never forgive them for their frailties.  We sometimes treat these figures as though they were our lover, one which always must say the right thing at the right time and halfway read our minds.  Assuming they were the keeper of our heart, we would then need to concede that we would need to love them not just for their best qualities, but also for their worst.  We can easily be dismayed, demoralized, and distressed at the behavior and conduct of those we idolize, certainly, but forgiveness is a concept ultimately foreign to us far too often.  If it arrives, it arrives late, if ever at all, and it is yielded grudgingly.  How often have I “forgiven” someone by mentioning, “Well, I’ll forgive you this once, but you better not do it again, or I’ll never speak to you again”.  

This ought not excuse mediocrity, philandering, or a distressing turn towards hypocrisy, but it might better explain a bit better some of the hypocrisies buried within our minds.  We often say we’d never want to be a celebrity, a politician, or anyone with the same degree of constant media exposure and with it a fishbowl work environment, but many of us would also jump at the chance if it were available to us someday.  I’m not so much advancing a notion that we ought to Leave People in the Public Eye Alone™ but that we need to look within ourselves and examine why we thrust so much of our entire selves, dreams, and aspirations towards whomever might have ability, courage, or God-given talents of oratory and authenticity.  They certainly use our faith in them for their own benefit, as is part of the beast, and hopefully never forget the potency of the dreams of thousands upon thousands.  If this truly were a relationship rather than a social contract, there would be disturbingly equal proportions of sadism and masochism present.  

As it stands now, this compact is a curious kind of two-step, whereby we give all of ourselves to whomever represents us formally, with the requisite number of strings attached that we put in place in an effort that ensure that our personal wish list is followed without in order and without flaw.  As for those who would lead or stand out from the pack, raising the bar high, be it in music, entertainment, or politics sets a huge precedent in place and some can rise to the challenge by hitting another home run out of the park, though many fall short.  It would seem, then, that the responsibility to keep things in proper proportion is everyone’s.  We may not be able to close the gap regarding the number of those who lead versus those who follow, but we can make strides toward adopting a much more feasible strategy, one that would lead to fewer headaches and fewer feelings of betrayal.  To me, forgiveness could be a solution.  And by this I don’t mean forgiveness for selfish reasons like the ability to successfully cross off another item on a voluminous to-do list, but forgiveness out of a realization that doing so would encourage true healing.  True healing leads to group health.  If Jesus does return someday, he would expect nothing less.    

In this New Year, I resolve to learn the balance between that which I can positively effect and that which I cannot.  I make this resolution not in a desire to shirk my responsibility to my fellow person, but out of the understanding that life is too short to hold myself to a series of arbitrary, exacting rules that remove the joy of daily living.  This goes beyond the familiar language of the Serenity Prayer and has application to every activist cause of which I espouse.  Though we may be tough on the offenders, we are even tougher on ourselves, and that inevitably leads to burn out and soul-killing cynicism.  There is no sin in recharging our batteries periodically or at least recognizing that the greater problems which face us will remain no matter how many hours we devote to their eradication or how intensely we seek to amplify the volume to raise public awareness.          

For example, dietary laws were extremely important to the First Century Christians, and indeed in still so in many Jewish and Islamic circles (as well as some Christian ones).  Moreover, the idea of unity with God by eating a meal was an integral concept within Jewish, Christian, and Pagan traditions.  Those who had converted to Christianity from Paganism were uncomfortable consuming food that had been presented as a sacrifice to Pagan gods and asked for guidance.  To this, Paul replied,      

Someone may say, “I’m allowed to do anything,” but not everything is helpful. I’m allowed to do anything, but not everything encourages growth.  People should be concerned about others and not just about themselves.  Eat anything that is sold in the market without letting your conscience trouble you.

I’m not talking about your conscience but the other person’s conscience. Why should my freedom be judged by someone else’s conscience?  If I can thank God for the food and enjoy it, why should I be condemned for eating it?

I understand the importance of social justice, particularly social justice through food purchase, which has driven a cottage industry.  Organic food, for example, was hippie food first, then became yuppie food.  Aside from the obvious, however, it is a curious quirk of humanity that we often cast aside one form of rote legalism for another form of it that closely agrees with our current sensibilities.  I know of Atheists who are themselves converts from conservative Christianity and in rightly pointing out the restrictive elements of their upbringing, they then adopt a philosophy of their that is no different in its basic construction.  We often focus on that which is intolerant, but living a life dictated too heavily by rules and restrictions doesn’t just eradicate freedom, it also removes the pleasure and fun of life.  I firmly believe that life is to be enjoyed.  Enough problems exist with our time here on earth than to be further dragged down and burdened by looking for problems.  Furthermore, if we focus on law, we adopt a neurotic posture that revolves around ourselves first and foremost.  If, however, we focus on unselfish love, then our concern shifts to other people.      

This isn’t true just for that which we take into our bodies.  Far too often the fear of climate change and global warming leads to its own a kind of legalism that assumes that through an well-intentioned obsession with minimizing our potential damage to the planet that we can somehow fulfill our obligations.  Global warming or some form of environmental decay has led some to rush to turn off lights, micromanage the settings of thermostats, and turn noses up at products likely produced by objectionable means.  This is, of course, not to say that aiming to be environmentally friendly and less conspicuously consumerist is not worth our time.  However, when our lives become Sisyphean to no good end, then we ought to concede that it is our own salvation through works that is predicated on personal conduct that leaves no room for error.  If I could teach any lesson to those of us who ascribe to an activist philosophy, that would be it.

In my own life, it is a big temptation to rush to judgment towards those I deem not conducting their own affairs in the manner in which I demand they should.  In particular, among online activist forums, a kind of extreme skepticism takes hold among participants.  It stems from a collective understanding of just how easy it is to pull the wool over the eyes of the ignorant and the ill-informed, and with it comes understandable feeling of despair that nothing one can possibly do will change that fact.  Still, if we adopt that stance, we are assuming that people are forever prisoners of their fate and that they can never change for the better.  Even though many may never revise their beliefs and may cling to that which we deem unenlightened and maddeningly stupid, we must never forget that there is always a chance that some may see the light.  Perhaps it is we who must modify our expectations and take a more realistic position regarding our poor power to add or detract to the tally.        

A year or so ago, I taught an online course of American History to technical college students.  My students were predominately working class, blue collar toilers who were seeking to further their education by means of attaining certification to achieve a specific higher paying vocation.  They were far from the typical college freshmen of which I had once been.  With my middle class education and background, I recognized quickly that it was highly unlikely that I would have ever befriended even one of my students, nor gravitated towards the same things as they in my own life.  At the beginning of the course, the views of many of my students were identical to those that Progressives often lament or caustically dismiss as hopelessly backwards or offensively naive.

Yet, after I was fortunate enough to really engage and reach my students, I noticed many of those old prejudices were being openly challenged and few were resisting this exercise in liberty and personal freedom.  I never sought to change anyone’s mind, but what I did note with much satisfaction is that until that instant, no one had ever bothered to expand and broaden their understanding beyond soundbytes and inexact, hackneyed rhetoric.  Once the complexities of human nature and historical reality became known to them, one could almost observe the metaphorical light bulb going off.  It was a thrilling thing to observe for me, the instructor, and after I took some degree of pride in my hard work, I recognized again how much class differences and economic disparities go into forming a concept of identity and system of belief.  Many of those who may have thus far taken a completely opposite political stance to mine never had the opportunities I had.  What I often find most frustrating among those who consider themselves worldly and intelligent are that they are usually the most stubbornly intractable regarding entertaining the notion that they could be wrong or that their own personal canon of wisdom might not be as airtight as they claim it is.  Those who, like my students, almost have a hero worship of the educated are much easier to enlighten and empower, though with that blank slate comes its own set of responsibility and ethical conduct.

Jesus spoke to those who felt as though they knew-it-all,

Then he said to them, “I can guarantee this truth: Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.  Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

This is not to imply that I am infantilizing my students in some kind of exercise of mock pious Paternalism, but rather to note how much easier it is to open the minds of those who have not kept theirs resolutely snapped shut.  We are never too smart, nor too old to learn or to be taught a lesson.  Elitism begins to creep in whenever we act or think otherwise.  Elitism is a enemy of Progressivism as sure as any of the well-documented offenders that never leave our radar screens.  Constructing hierarchies of influence locks out those who wish to belong and want a spot at the table.  Who cares if they don’t fit the profile up front!  So what if they can’t write a brilliantly crafted blog entry or propose some pithy statement in comments!  If we, myself included, were a bit more patient with each other and embraced the idea of a loving family rather than as an outlet for people who desperately want their own views to be validated in a public forum, then we might be making some serious progress.  No one doubts how desperately we seek and need a community and how many of us find it within activist political circles, but the shortcomings and the problems cry out for reform just as badly as any number of the worthy causes we demand be addressed.  

This then, is my greatest New Year’s Resolution,

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”  

Jesus repeated the question: “Simon son of John, do you love me?” “Yes, Lord,” Peter said, “you know I love you.” “Then take care of my sheep,” Jesus said.  

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.”  

Recently, it has become known that a group of conservative Bible scholars are attempting to re-translate the Bible to fit a decidedly conservative spin.   Calling themselves the Conservative Bible Project, the Wikipedia-inspired platform removes troublesome things like facts and original intent, instead softening the language of that original radical liberal Comrade Jesus.   The problem among many, of course, is that the original Bible as rendered has no allegiance to Twenty-first century ideology, since it was written centuries before.   The strength of the document is in its relative impartiality, at least as regards contemporary culture conflict.   Much about this project troubles me, but my own red flags arise whenever revisionism without just cause and with a stated agenda are justified by excuse and rationalization.   Apparently unable to stick to its own interpretation within the existent passages, this group must create its own scripture in the process, else those evil liberals continue their nefarious brainwashing.

If this were merely some over-reaching effort to put an ideological spin on Jesus and his words, that would be bad enough, but the project contains an element of prudishness to it as well.   In researching for this piece, I came across a helpful column in America Magazine, written by John W. Martens.

There are numerous other issues on which one could raise substantial concerns. The CBP editors are unwilling to grant that Jesus is talking about wine, you know, the stuff with alcohol, in Mark 2: 22, and instead suggest “fresh grape juice” for oinos. It is hard to know how this ancient Welch’s will “burst the wineskins,” thereby destroying the point of the parable, and even harder to know why there were prohibitions on drunkenness amongst early Christians if they were only drinking grape juice.

The project has chosen to address The Old Testament as well.  I’d be curious to know how they’re going to get around Noah’s unfortunate David Hasselhoff-like bout of intoxication.  Genesis 9 provides the story.

Noah, a man of the soil, proceeded to plant a vineyard.  When he drank some of its wine, he became drunk and lay uncovered inside his tent.  Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father’s nakedness and told his two brothers outside.  But Shem and Japheth took a garment and laid it across their shoulders; then they walked in backward and covered their father’s nakedness. Their faces were turned the other way so that they would not see their father’s nakedness.  When Noah awoke from his wine and found out what his youngest son had done to him, he said, “Cursed be Canaan! The lowest of slaves will he be to his brothers.”  He also said, “Blessed be the LORD, the God of Shem! May Canaan be the slave of Shem.

As I interpret it, I take the passage to mean that even the Godliest of the Godly have gaping flaws and make poor decisions at times, but it speaks far worse to those who seek to cover up these matters as a means of suiting their own purposes.   The Canaanites mentioned in the passage were a Semetic peoples conquered by the Israelites and largely assimilated into their numbers.   Conventional interpretation labels the sons and daughters of Canaan a wicked and evil people who were justifiably driven out of the Promised Land to make way for the Hebrews, as they were squatting on land not belonging to them.   Rather than joining forces and entering the promised territory hard won by conflict, they were conquered by force.

Scholars have never completely come to a consensus agreement as to what the curse of Ham really entails, but in any case, the latter verses of the above passage have been variously used over time to justify racism and enslavement of Black Africans.  It would be interesting to see how the Conservative Bible Project can reconcile this particularly troublesome situation, since words alone cannot defeat context and intent.   So much of biblical understanding relies heavily on back story and correct framing, but taking words literally in isolation from the larger picture is where intolerance and rigidity of understanding find their nexus.          

Ham is not directly cursed for his actions; instead the curse falls upon his youngest son Canaan. The curse seems unusually severe for merely observing Noah unclothed. An explanation sometimes offered notes that the phrase “exposing or uncovering nakedness” is used several times elsewhere in the Pentateuch as a euphemism for having sexual relations. See Leviticus 18:6-19 in which this phrase is mentioned in connection with a variety of women in the family–one’s mother, stepmother, sister, half sister, granddaughter, aunt, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law– as well as in certain relationships (during her menstrual period, sleeping with a mother and daughter, etc.)

Rashi, the main commentator on Torah, explains the harshness of the curse: “Some say Cham saw his father naked and either sodomized or castrated him. His thought was “Perhaps my father’s drunkenness will lead to intercourse with our mother and I will have to share the inheritance of the world with another brother! I will prevent this by taking his manhood from him! When Noah awoke, and he realized what Cham had done, he said, “Because you prevented me from having a fourth son, your fourth son, Canaan, shall forever be a slave to his brothers, who showed respect to me!”

Greed combined with personal gain compels others to violence and brutality.   Lessons like these are why the Scriptures never truly date, though I can almost certainly guarantee that the Conservative Bible Project’s bastardization endeavor will need to go through several revisions.  Political winds change at will, but human nature never does.   Still, nothing sets conservative tongue a-waggling quicker than the fear of socialism.    

What is most troubling, however, for the editors of the CBP is the socialism that is rife in modern translations. For instance, “volunteer” is a conservative word, and appears rarely in translations, while words such as “laborer” and “fellow-worker” appear numerous times. Apparently, “work” and labor” reflect socialism, which strikes me as a place that conservatives might not want to go. Are they truly opposed to work?

They themselves?   Yes.   Their loyal voting bloc of the easily deceived and educationally impoverished?  No.   Why unite when you can divide and conquer?

Martens concludes, quite devastatingly,

Best of all, though, is the new translation of Mark 3:27, where “the strong man” of the KJV (also in NRSV and NIV) becomes the “well-armed man” of the CBP. I can just see the “well-armed man” now, ancient rifle in hand, defending his turf, against wine, socialism, and co-workers. There is a little problem here for the CBP: in Jesus’ parable, the “strong man” is Satan. Hmmm…labor on my fellow-workers, labor on, we will disarm him yet.

The verse in Mark that Martens cites is prefaced by this one.

And if Satan is divided and fights against himself, how can he stand? He would never survive.

I used the larger parable from which these verses come in a column I wrote a week ago, where I set out a familiar turn of phrase widely attributed to Abraham Lincoln.  The verse prior to that one reads,

If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.  

Some translations render the passage,

Similarly, a family splintered by feuding will fall apart.

The Bible doesn’t promise us what we want to hear.  At times its wisdom is as sharp and cutting as it is inspiring and guiding, but wisdom as I understand it is not meant to be a pep talk.   The idolatry of the Conservative Bible Project is no less damning than that of the Golden Calf or the pursuit of profit.   Faith is not something that we can transform into our own image, lest it guide us towards places that make us uncomfortable or challenge our assumptions.   Faith is not tunnel vision, either, which is something many Evangelical conservative groups and loyal conservatives are quick to adopt, since it promises nothing messy, incomplete, or inexact.   Yet, conceding as so many do that faith guidance is outdated or would force us to adopt some singular uniform focus that would come at the expense of our independence is not a correct assumption, either.  

Jesus concludes,

Let me illustrate this further. Who is powerful enough to enter the house of a strong man like Satan and plunder his goods? Only someone even stronger–someone who could tie him up and then plunder his house.

I am not usually a reader of magazines except when waiting in places like doctor’s offices or for routine car repair, but a particular column in The Atlantic fairly jumped out at me yesterday while running errands.  Provocatively entitled “Did Christianity Cause the Crash?“, immediately I wondered what Christianity the author was referring to when making such a sweeping pronouncement.  As it turns out, it’s a particularly curious hybrid strain that synthesizes radical optimism and personal gain at the expense of hard truths or self-awareness.  In that regard, it could not be more indicative of the modern age, in all of its faults and promises of salvation through riches.  Moreover, in this epoch where instant gratification reigns, perhaps it was inevitable that this petard preaching material gain was hoist.  

Though centrally based around an emerging Catholic congregation catering specifically to recent Latino immigrants, in her compelling article author Hanna Rosin draws in disparate strains of different denominations to make an interesting and ultimately damning point.

America’s churches always reflect shifts in the broader culture, and Casa del Padre is no exception. The message that Jesus blesses believers with riches first showed up in the postwar years, at a time when Americans began to believe that greater comfort could be accessible to everyone, not just the landed class. But it really took off during the boom years of the 1990s, and has continued to spread ever since. This stitched-together, homegrown theology, known as the prosperity gospel, is not a clearly defined denomination, but a strain of belief that runs through the Pentecostal Church and a surprising number of mainstream evangelical churches, with varying degrees of intensity.

In Garay’s church, God is the “Owner of All the Silver and Gold,” and with enough faith, any believer can access the inheritance. Money is not the dull stuff of hourly wages and bank-account statements, but a magical substance that comes as a gift from above. Even in these hard times, it is discouraged, in such churches, to fall into despair about the things you cannot afford. “Instead of saying ‘I’m poor,’ say ‘I’m rich,'” Garay’s wife, Hazael, told me one day. “The word of God will manifest itself in reality.”

I find this belief system, if one could truly call it that, particularly troubling and problematic, considering that there are any number of verses of Scripture and words of Jesus I could invoke to directly contradict it.  The most obvious citation and one that likely jumps out to those with a strong Christ-centered background is, of course, from the Gospel of Matthew.

“No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.

I am surprised certainly at how unapologetic is this emphasis on personal finance and wealth, since the model used by many churches is a much more insidious one.  The most flagrant perversion is found within conventional Protestant Christianity and is known as the Edifice Complex.  In it, individual salvation is closely linked with coughing up enough money into the collection plates to buy the brand new multimillion dollar building being pushed by the minister and certain well-connected committee members.  A singular focus upon a new house of worship takes precedent, is set into motion, and is awaited with a kind of rapturous Messianic zeal.  Plans are drawn up, each stage is announced with much fanfare, updates are frequently provided on how much money has been donated to cover the expense, and it is implied strongly and frequently that all problems will be easily solved by more square footage.  The tactic is almost always justified by stating that unchurched people will be drawn into the fold and as a result souls will be saved.  Of course, paying for it all over time, in addition to such matters as an notable increase in monies devoted to utilities, mortgage payments, and routine upkeep would certainly require greater participation and increased numbers in the pews, but these are often vulgar, cynical conclusions few dare to draw openly or, for that matter, vocally.

It is not all that surprising that the prosperity gospel persists despite its obvious failure to pay off. Much of popular religion these days is characterized by a vast gap between aspirations and reality. Few of Sarah Palin’s religious compatriots were shocked by her messy family life, because they’ve grown used to the paradoxes; some of the most socially conservative evangelical churches also have extremely high rates of teenage pregnancies, out-of-wedlock births, and divorce. As Garay likes to say, “What you have is nothing compared to what you will have.” The unpleasant reality-an inadequate paycheck, a pregnant daughter, a recession-is invisible. It’s your ability to see beyond such things, your willing blindness to even the most hopeless-seeming circumstances, that makes you a certain kind of modern Christian, and a 21st-century American.  

At times I have found criticism from those who are not people of faith a little annoying and self-righteous, but still do try to give credence to their concerns, many of which are well-founded.  If, for instance, one assumes that religion, or for that matter, Christianity is little more than a panacea of positive thinking or a snake-oil curative based on this example, I can hardly fault them for it.  True believers have always had to contend with distortions of the truth formulated to suit the ends of those who manipulated followers to advance their own ends, which often involved material gain.  It is unfortunate that tunnel-vision suffices for real faith in the eyes of the deluded, though I fault those who advance it, not those who cling to it.  

Later in Matthew,

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and “sinners” came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and ‘sinners’?”  On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  Learn what this means: ‘I want mercy, not sacrifices.’  For I have come to urge sinners, not the self-righteous, back to God.

I remember that when I was in high school I had a friend who grew up in a very conservative Evangelical family.  Underneath the piety, however, was a kind of dysfunction utterly at odds with the stability which they espoused.  The mother and father had been long divorced and so my friend lived with his mother in an always cluttered house packed floor to ceiling with junk and unorganized possessions.  She used divine revelation and divine direction as justification to leave the country for long periods of time.  No matter whether or not she had the money or the need to engage in weeks-long mission trips to remote corners of the globe, her rationalization was that God meant for her to go and since she wanted to go, He would provide for the messy details like funding or making sure her son had the support he needed.  Upon reading this article, this anecdote from my own life entered my mind and I am saddened to think that what I considered delusional eccentricity might be far more commonplace then I had ever dreamed.          

The Atlantic article focuses on a member of this Charlottesville, Virginia, Latino Catholic congregation by the name of Billy Gonzales, whose requisite devotion to the Prosperity Gospel raises some major red flags in the eyes of this reader.  

By many measures, Billy Gonzales does not have it all. He lives with his wife and three children in a tiny apartment on the back side of a development at the edge of town, where people hang out on the stoop until all hours. He works 45 minutes away and his car has been broken down for three months, and he does not have any money to fix it. Every day at work he is faced with a vision of what he does not have. He works for a man who just built a $4 million house-one of four the man owns. Gonzales’s job is to make sure every wine glass, garden statue, and book is dusted and in its proper place. Yet when I talked to Gonzales he was like a child hearing the ice-cream truck, or a man newly in love. “I’m crazy! Just crazy,” he said, meaning crazy for the Lord, and giving little jumps out of his chair.

“I want to buy a house,” he confessed to me one evening this summer. It turned out his lease was almost up, and he needed to move in the fall. “Not a small one but a really huge one, a nice one. With six bedrooms and a kitchen and living room. I know, it’s crazy! But nothing is impossible! God, you saved my life,” he said, no longer speaking to me. “You saved my life, and now you will give me a gift. Now I’m crazy!” Last I heard, he and Garay were house-hunting together.

The narrative that has been advanced in our society since roughly World War II is that religion is detrimental and thus it ought to be jettisoned and disregarded.  This has found favor particularly in liberal circles and continues to be pushed hard, since it is easy to provide a new example of how religious intolerance holds back progress or controls people to maintain its own power.  When riding the bus yesterday here in DC, I came across a very visible ad for Humanism.  It fairly dripped with optimism, smiling faces, calm colors, and good cheer, stating that it is possible for a person to be good without having to have a belief in God or a higher power at all.  

In my opinion, I believe that it is entirely possible to be a model citizen without a belief in a higher power, but I suppose I simply have a hard time entertaining the notion that humans when in groups are capable of staying grounded and remaining focused in their efforts to assist everyone.  One needs only look at the artifice we have created in government to see the confusion, the inequality, and above all, the needless complications that resort when peoples’ stated agenda at the outset is egalitarianism which ends up by the end nothing remotely like it.  What often starts with the best of intentions concludes with a finished product that pleases no one.    

Going back to Gonzales, what strikes me as a supreme tragedy is this particular passage, which flies in the face of much biblical teaching and, to be fair, much teaching of other religions.

He told me he feels pity for his employer. He assumes the man must have been close to God at one point, or at least his family must have been, “because the rich are closer to God.” But now the man has lost his way. He laughs when Gonzales talks to him about Jesus, and he wastes his money, buying $500 birdhouses and hiring Gonzales to clean them.

This story begs to be contradicted and my selection of the passage below should come as no surprise.

Now a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?”  “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, obey the commandments.”

Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”  When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.  Then Jesus said to his disciples, “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  

Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, “Who then can be saved?”  Jesus looked at them intently and said, “For humans this is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”

The long and short of it is that religion isn’t meant to be a consistent warm fuzzy.  That’s not the point.  Jesus called out the leaders of his day and age, which directly led to his death on a cross.  All or nothing thinking transforms religion either to a nonstop bummer trip of hypocrisy and thought control or a kind of willing Utopia adopted by believers desperate for a break from the travails and stressors of the world.  We are taught, poetically, that to everything there is a season.  Sometimes we need encouragement, sometimes we need to be aware of our own frailties, sometimes we can delight in joy, sometimes we need to be held accountable for our transgressions, but we don’t need a retelling of the bootstrap mythology based on a oversimplified interpretation of scripture.  

A notable criticism of all of the monotheistic religions is that they are Paternalistic and at times needlessly meddling.  I admit that the intention of the Gospels has been twisted to state “I know better than you do”.  Still, focusing specifically on what Jesus taught, the ultimate intention in the beginning was that of empowerment, not subordination.  No teacher desperate to be worshiped or admired would have stated that whomever exalts himself or herself will be humbled and whomever humbles himself or herself will be exalted.  It is a corruption of original intent that leads many away from faith and towards a gospel preaching riches, while in the process forsaking the Golden Rule.  The American Dream as realized begins with the Protestant work ethic, but takes a sharp detour along the way.    

To conclude, a message for false teachers and corrupt politicians.

“The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat.  So you must obey them and do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach.  They tie up heavy loads and put them on men’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.  Everything they do is done for men to see: They make their phylacteries wide and the tassels on their garments long; they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; they love to be greeted in the marketplaces and to have men call them ‘Rabbi.’

“But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers.  And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven.  Don’t make others call you a leader, because you have only one leader, the Messiah.  The greatest among you will be your servant.  

Taking the time to contemplate the vast amount of right-wing smears that have been either facilitated, advanced, or concocted by conservatives over the past several months is an overwhelming task.  Within each of these petty, partisan, often nonsensical parries and thrusts I am reminded again of the excesses of the Pharisees.  Wishing to have everything on their own terms and in accordance with every selfish demand, modern day Pharisees are found not merely in the opposition party, but regrettably sometimes among our own ranks, particularly in the form of people who fail to neither understand nor respect the vast amount of indignation felt when crucial reform legislation is watered down or vaguely outlined due to nothing more than political expediency and self-preservation.  If this sort of thing was limited to politicians, it might be more easily challenged, but one sees it everywhere.  Most recently, those well-connected business types who long ago lost their souls in selling the whole world are also guilty as charged.

The Parables of Jesus were spoken in symbolic language which lends them to a variety of different, though often interrelated interpretations.  Indeed, the very structure of the words which form them make any one sole meaning impossible.  It is this fact in particular that has made me skeptical of any church or any faith which stakes a claim to the “real” way.  Biblical scholarship has revealed nuance and even irony in the original text itself, both of which must be taken into account before forming any one-sided reading.  Jesus often spoke indirectly to avoid persecution by both Roman and Jewish authorities, but beyond the obvious, I have always seen the Parables much as I would an excellent work of poetry, one which provides a new, helpful, before unseen resonance with every subsequent reading.  The intrinsic thread remains constant, but new permutations arise as I age and depending on what frame of mind I am in at that particular juncture in my life, I always glean something brand new.

When we talk about our own complicity in a system where those at the top dictate the course of action for those subservient to them, I return to the Parable of the Talents.  In this day and age where we often believe that our own power, income, and sphere of influence owes its existence to making compromises with unethical major players, this Parable address our messy moral dilemmas.  Here, the version in the Gospel of Matthew, which is cited most frequently.    

Those among us who are familiar with the Bible will recall that Jesus Christ himself was an active member of the health care community as he travelled about the Holy Land.

It is reported that he practiced within multiple medical specialties, and his works as both an ophthalmologist and a neurologist are recounted within the verses of the Gospels.

But what if Jesus had been practicing medicine in the therapeutic environment we’re familiar with today?

In today’s conversation we’ll be tagging along with Jesus as he takes a few calls at his HMO’s Customer Care Center-and by the time we get done you should be able to bring a whole new take to those discussions you’ve been having about why reform matters.