I listened to Governor Mitt Romney’s talk on religion last Thursday. It was moving, at times stirring, and deeply disconcerting. What troubled me the most was the Governor’s notion that you cannot have freedom without religion or religion without freedom. This is patently false, and disenfranchises millions of Americans who do not have a formal religion.
Freedom implies that one is free to think, believe, and do what one will (within the obvious limits), but none of the Abrahamic religions allows this. Nowhere in sacred scriptures of the three Abrahamic faiths are we told to think for ourselves, to free ourselves from the dictates of rabbis, priests, pastors, and imams. Religion is about obedience, not freedom. Look to Spinoza, Galileo, Salmon Rushdie, the evangelical Protestant war on science, the Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, the intramural fighting among differing Christian sects in the original thirteen colonies, and the Danish cartoons of Mohammed and it is abundantly clear that religion is not interested in freedom.
As far as I know, only Buddhism says one should investigate reality for oneself and not believe something simply because it is said to be holy (Dhammapada), and I doubt Governor Romney was thinking of Buddhism when he made his claim that there is no freedom without religion.
Nor is the flip side of this notion—that there can be no religion without freedom—any more true. To cite but one example, look at Islam in Saudi Arabia. Certainly religion is strong there, but can we say the same for freedom? Religion needs power and the capacity to punish those who seek to free themselves from its power; it doesn’t need freedom or support freedom.
True, in the United States we have shown that religions flourish in a free society, but that was imposed by the Bill of Rights. It was not a religious ideal, but came from the secular realm that sought to protect America from theocracy and the horror of inter-religious warfare all too common in Europe.
When Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are inalienable rights rooted in the Creator, he was trying to keep those rights out of the control of religion and politics. He knew what Governor Romney seems not to know: that freedom is the first thing to go when religion rules.
Freedom, not religion, is what makes the United States so important. Freedom not religion is what makes this country worth sacrificing for. Freedom not religion is the true faith of America. I may trust in God, but I do not trust anyone who claims to speak for God.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Mitt's Secret
I am anticipating Governor Mitt Romney’s speech on religion this morning. I am disappointed that he has to give this speech. In a Republican field where not believing in evolution is a good thing, the fact that Governor Romney is a Mormon shouldn’t be such a big deal. Yet, disappointed or not, I am hopeful that he will reveal the one thing that I want to know about Mormonism: What’s up with the underwear?
I know that some people are concerned that Mormons believe God has a body made of flesh and bone. And that some Mormons believe God has a wife. And that if we are really really good we might evolve into gods with our own planets to muck around with. But these are no more weird than the ideas of any other religion. Governor Mike Huckabee believes that Jesus wants us all to carry concealed weapons so we can shoot the bad guys when we need to. That’s seems weird to me. But I thing Mike wears regular underwear, and that has got to count for something.
Anyway, back to Mitt’s unmentionables. All I know about the Mormon garment is that it represents the promises Mormons make to God. I have no idea if it is a shift, a shirt, a bikini brief, boxers or what. Come on, Mitt, clue us in.
I also know that Mormons are supposed to wear the garment next to their skin, which is why many Mormons wear it instead of secular underwear, but I have no idea what it is make of. Is it cotton, silk, wool, or what? I knew a Mormon named Glenn once and he had this odd scratching habit, so maybe it is wool.
Mormons aren’t the only ones with holy underwear, by the way. I used to wear a tallit katan, a small poncho-like thing that had the sacred fringes Jewish men are supposed to wear attached to the corners. And I knew a Baptist named Rachel who had underwear with “What would Jesus do” strategically printed on the front. (I met Rachel at a Laundromat and saw them in her cart. Get your mind out of the gutter!)
I tried to find out more about Mormon underwear. On one Mormon website they post the question, “Where do Mormon garments come from?” I assumed the answer would give me some history about the sacred underwear. Unfortunately the answer was “Garments are made at LDS church clothing centers.” Oh. Is it any wonder that people think Mormons are secretive about their faith?
The fact is I’m not voting for Governor Romney anyway, so I should care what kind of underwear he wears. So let’s hope he talks about something else this morning.
I know that some people are concerned that Mormons believe God has a body made of flesh and bone. And that some Mormons believe God has a wife. And that if we are really really good we might evolve into gods with our own planets to muck around with. But these are no more weird than the ideas of any other religion. Governor Mike Huckabee believes that Jesus wants us all to carry concealed weapons so we can shoot the bad guys when we need to. That’s seems weird to me. But I thing Mike wears regular underwear, and that has got to count for something.
Anyway, back to Mitt’s unmentionables. All I know about the Mormon garment is that it represents the promises Mormons make to God. I have no idea if it is a shift, a shirt, a bikini brief, boxers or what. Come on, Mitt, clue us in.
I also know that Mormons are supposed to wear the garment next to their skin, which is why many Mormons wear it instead of secular underwear, but I have no idea what it is make of. Is it cotton, silk, wool, or what? I knew a Mormon named Glenn once and he had this odd scratching habit, so maybe it is wool.
Mormons aren’t the only ones with holy underwear, by the way. I used to wear a tallit katan, a small poncho-like thing that had the sacred fringes Jewish men are supposed to wear attached to the corners. And I knew a Baptist named Rachel who had underwear with “What would Jesus do” strategically printed on the front. (I met Rachel at a Laundromat and saw them in her cart. Get your mind out of the gutter!)
I tried to find out more about Mormon underwear. On one Mormon website they post the question, “Where do Mormon garments come from?” I assumed the answer would give me some history about the sacred underwear. Unfortunately the answer was “Garments are made at LDS church clothing centers.” Oh. Is it any wonder that people think Mormons are secretive about their faith?
The fact is I’m not voting for Governor Romney anyway, so I should care what kind of underwear he wears. So let’s hope he talks about something else this morning.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Chanukah and Chutzpah
[As the Chief Rabbi of Murfreesboro, TN, I was asked by The Murfreesboro Post to write a short essay on Chanukah to help readers understand the holiday and the people who celebrate it. This is what I wrote:]
While it is common for countries and states to have their official birds and flowers, we Jews have our official attitude: chutzpah. Chutzpah is a Yiddish word meaning “extreme self confidence.” Whether it is the chutzpah of Abraham arguing with God to spare Sodom, or the chutzpah of Job demanding that God appear before him to explain Himself, or the chutzpah of Jesus taking on the powers of Temple and Empire in the name of the Kingdom of Heaven, chutzpah is a powerful force shaping the mindset of the Jewish people and our religion. Chanukah is a celebration of chutzpah.
In 167 BCE the Seleucid King Antiochus IV outlawed the practice of Judaism. Mattathias, a Jewish priest from the town of Modi’in called for armed resistance, and his son Judah (called HaMaccabee, The Hammer, after his military prowess) led a bloody guerilla war against the Greco-Syrians.
After two years of fighting, Antiochus allowed the Jews to keep kosher and follow the laws of Torah, but did not free either the Temple in Jerusalem or the city itself. Many of Judah’s fighters claimed victory and went home, but Judah and his reduced forces continued to fight until he had reclaimed both the city and its Temple.
The fact that a small band of Jewish guerillas took on the might of the Greco-Syrian empire may seem chutpadik (chutzpah-like) enough, but there is more. To rededicate the Temple to God the Maccabee’s needed eight day’s worth of oil to burn in the menorah (candelabrum). They found only one day’s supply remaining. Logic would dictate that the victorious fighters wait a week until enough fresh oil could be prepared before lighting the menorah, but logic has nothing to do with chutzpah. Rather than wait they used what they had and dedicated the Temple anyway. Yet the single day’s oil lasted not only the expected one day, but the entire eight days.
It is important to note that Chanukah (dedication) doesn’t celebrate the chutzpah of war, but the chutzpah of faith; trusting in a power greater than ourselves, and acting for God even when failure seems inevitable. And it is equally important to remember that chutzpah doesn’t end with Chanukah. After all what is more chutzpahdik than a small band of Jews following their rabbi from Nazareth to take confront the oppression of Rome in Name of God?
While it is common for countries and states to have their official birds and flowers, we Jews have our official attitude: chutzpah. Chutzpah is a Yiddish word meaning “extreme self confidence.” Whether it is the chutzpah of Abraham arguing with God to spare Sodom, or the chutzpah of Job demanding that God appear before him to explain Himself, or the chutzpah of Jesus taking on the powers of Temple and Empire in the name of the Kingdom of Heaven, chutzpah is a powerful force shaping the mindset of the Jewish people and our religion. Chanukah is a celebration of chutzpah.
In 167 BCE the Seleucid King Antiochus IV outlawed the practice of Judaism. Mattathias, a Jewish priest from the town of Modi’in called for armed resistance, and his son Judah (called HaMaccabee, The Hammer, after his military prowess) led a bloody guerilla war against the Greco-Syrians.
After two years of fighting, Antiochus allowed the Jews to keep kosher and follow the laws of Torah, but did not free either the Temple in Jerusalem or the city itself. Many of Judah’s fighters claimed victory and went home, but Judah and his reduced forces continued to fight until he had reclaimed both the city and its Temple.
The fact that a small band of Jewish guerillas took on the might of the Greco-Syrian empire may seem chutpadik (chutzpah-like) enough, but there is more. To rededicate the Temple to God the Maccabee’s needed eight day’s worth of oil to burn in the menorah (candelabrum). They found only one day’s supply remaining. Logic would dictate that the victorious fighters wait a week until enough fresh oil could be prepared before lighting the menorah, but logic has nothing to do with chutzpah. Rather than wait they used what they had and dedicated the Temple anyway. Yet the single day’s oil lasted not only the expected one day, but the entire eight days.
It is important to note that Chanukah (dedication) doesn’t celebrate the chutzpah of war, but the chutzpah of faith; trusting in a power greater than ourselves, and acting for God even when failure seems inevitable. And it is equally important to remember that chutzpah doesn’t end with Chanukah. After all what is more chutzpahdik than a small band of Jews following their rabbi from Nazareth to take confront the oppression of Rome in Name of God?
Monday, December 03, 2007
Witness to Christ
As I was leaving the Opryland Hotel at the end of my volunteer shift at the 76th annual General Assembly of the United Jewish Communities, an elderly man walking with his wife stopped me to ask why there were so many people wearing kippot (yarmulkes). Pointing to my kipah he said, “For a moment I thought I was in Israel.”
“Was that a good moment or bad moment?” I asked.
“Oh, good. I love Jews. You Jews gave us our Lord and Savior,” he said.
“And they killed him,” his wife said.
“That too,” he said.
“Actually the Romans killed him,” I said, “but whoever did it you must be glad they did.”
“What! Why on earth would we be glad you Jews killed Jesus?” his wife said.
“Actually the Romans killed him, and you should be glad because if Jesus didn’t die on the cross he wouldn’t have been resurrected and couldn’t return to save you.”
“No, sir,” the wife said. “The Jews didn’t have to kill him. That was an evil act.”
“Actually the Romans killed him, and evil or not, it was necessary to God’s plan. Don’t you believe the Bible: ‘God so loved the world that He gave His only son so that anyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life’ (John 3:16)?”
“Of course we do,” the husband said.
“Who would believe in Jesus if he died of old age and had great grandchildren? He had to die on the cross to ransom you for your sins” I said.
“Yes,” the man said. “And that is why we love Jews. They will witness the return of Christ. Won’t you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “As soon as I witness him coming back.”
“But then it will be too late,” his wife said.
“On the contrary,” I said. “You need Jews to witness the return of Jesus. If I convert I will be a Christian and my witness won’t count. No, I will remain a Jew until the second coming. I’m doing you a favor. You should thank me.”
“Oh. Well, thank you,” the man said.
“You are welcome,” I said as I walked toward the exit. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Was that a good moment or bad moment?” I asked.
“Oh, good. I love Jews. You Jews gave us our Lord and Savior,” he said.
“And they killed him,” his wife said.
“That too,” he said.
“Actually the Romans killed him,” I said, “but whoever did it you must be glad they did.”
“What! Why on earth would we be glad you Jews killed Jesus?” his wife said.
“Actually the Romans killed him, and you should be glad because if Jesus didn’t die on the cross he wouldn’t have been resurrected and couldn’t return to save you.”
“No, sir,” the wife said. “The Jews didn’t have to kill him. That was an evil act.”
“Actually the Romans killed him, and evil or not, it was necessary to God’s plan. Don’t you believe the Bible: ‘God so loved the world that He gave His only son so that anyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life’ (John 3:16)?”
“Of course we do,” the husband said.
“Who would believe in Jesus if he died of old age and had great grandchildren? He had to die on the cross to ransom you for your sins” I said.
“Yes,” the man said. “And that is why we love Jews. They will witness the return of Christ. Won’t you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “As soon as I witness him coming back.”
“But then it will be too late,” his wife said.
“On the contrary,” I said. “You need Jews to witness the return of Jesus. If I convert I will be a Christian and my witness won’t count. No, I will remain a Jew until the second coming. I’m doing you a favor. You should thank me.”
“Oh. Well, thank you,” the man said.
“You are welcome,” I said as I walked toward the exit. “It’s my pleasure.”
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Golden Compass Part Two: Faith in Fiction
Can fiction be a danger to faith? This is the implication of the growing furor over Phillip Pullman’s “His Dark Material” trilogy and the film adaptation of the “The Golden Compass,” the first volume of that trilogy.
Most liberals scoff at this notion: If one’s faith can be shattered or even wounded by a novel then it was a pretty flimsy faith to begin with. True enough, but it misses a much more interesting point: One person’s fiction IS another person’s faith.
I am watching the You-Tube Republican debates on CNN and cannot help but think of Governor Mitt Romney’s faith in what the vast majority of his fellow Americans consider the fiction that is the Book of Mormon. Or of Governor Mike Huckabee’s faith in what most of the world’s peoples believe to be another great piece of fiction, the Gospels. And then there are the great narratives of the Hebrew Bible and the Bhagavad Gita.
So, please don’t scoff at faith when it feels threatened by fiction. Fiction is one of the most powerful tools humans have to explore and explicate the perennial concerns that haunt us: Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going? And Why? Fiction, far more than any other form of discourse, has the power to change minds.
Look at Sartre, Camus, Kafka, and Ayn Rand to name but four. Their stories carry their truths in ways no other vehicle can. Look at Jesus: Why did he tell stories instead of delivering theological lectures? Parables, story, myth are the timeless teaching tools of humanity. Whether these are spoken, printed, or enacted on stage, screen, or radio—is secondary; it is the story itself that matters.
So do Christians have a point when they worry about the power of “The Golden Compass” to make their children think outside the box of their religious tradition? Yes, they do. They know the power of story to transform lives, and they themselves are devoted to promoting their story over and against the stories of others in order to do just that. Of course they insist their fiction is fact and all other so-called facts are only fictions, but that is just the politics of piety. The truth is that story matters.
I celebrate the power of fiction to help us think. I am not afraid of fiction because I am not afraid of thinking. I want people to be free to entertain any idea they wish. I just want them educated in such a way as to empower them to do so rationally.
The best response to “The Golden Compass” isn’t to hide from it as so many Christian leaders are urging; this only says that their fiction is weaker than its fiction. Rather we all should use the film as a catalyst for deep conversations about the issues it raises. You don’t respond to story by blocking your ears, but by telling more powerful stories.
Most liberals scoff at this notion: If one’s faith can be shattered or even wounded by a novel then it was a pretty flimsy faith to begin with. True enough, but it misses a much more interesting point: One person’s fiction IS another person’s faith.
I am watching the You-Tube Republican debates on CNN and cannot help but think of Governor Mitt Romney’s faith in what the vast majority of his fellow Americans consider the fiction that is the Book of Mormon. Or of Governor Mike Huckabee’s faith in what most of the world’s peoples believe to be another great piece of fiction, the Gospels. And then there are the great narratives of the Hebrew Bible and the Bhagavad Gita.
So, please don’t scoff at faith when it feels threatened by fiction. Fiction is one of the most powerful tools humans have to explore and explicate the perennial concerns that haunt us: Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going? And Why? Fiction, far more than any other form of discourse, has the power to change minds.
Look at Sartre, Camus, Kafka, and Ayn Rand to name but four. Their stories carry their truths in ways no other vehicle can. Look at Jesus: Why did he tell stories instead of delivering theological lectures? Parables, story, myth are the timeless teaching tools of humanity. Whether these are spoken, printed, or enacted on stage, screen, or radio—is secondary; it is the story itself that matters.
So do Christians have a point when they worry about the power of “The Golden Compass” to make their children think outside the box of their religious tradition? Yes, they do. They know the power of story to transform lives, and they themselves are devoted to promoting their story over and against the stories of others in order to do just that. Of course they insist their fiction is fact and all other so-called facts are only fictions, but that is just the politics of piety. The truth is that story matters.
I celebrate the power of fiction to help us think. I am not afraid of fiction because I am not afraid of thinking. I want people to be free to entertain any idea they wish. I just want them educated in such a way as to empower them to do so rationally.
The best response to “The Golden Compass” isn’t to hide from it as so many Christian leaders are urging; this only says that their fiction is weaker than its fiction. Rather we all should use the film as a catalyst for deep conversations about the issues it raises. You don’t respond to story by blocking your ears, but by telling more powerful stories.
Golden Compass: The Whining
The December release of “The Golden Compass,” based on the first novel in Philip Pullman’s “His Dark Material” trilogy, is drawing the ire of Catholics, evangelical Protestants, and atheists alike. The latter complain that the book’s anti-religious theme is muted in the film, while the former are upset because even this muted version is an insult to their faith. Shades of Sudanese teddy bears!
Actually I sympathize with groups complaining about movies. Year’s ago I started a campaign against “It’s a Wonderful Life” arguing that no real angel would ever be named Clarence. But there is a twist in the whining about “The Golden Compass” that makes this instance of movie madness all the more interesting. Where most authors and filmmakers deny any attack on religion, Philip Pullman admits his trilogy recasts the Fall from the Garden of Eden not as “the source of all woe and misery, as in the traditional Christian teaching, but as the beginning of true human freedom, something to be celebrated not lamented.” Amen!
We Jews wrote the story and we never called it the Fall. Eve is the Hebrew Prometheus stealing wisdom from God, and, if you follow the midrash (commentary) that says the serpent is the Messiah in disguise, this is exactly what God had in mind.
The Garden of Eden is a metaphor for childhood. God, like any good parent, wants her children to grow up and leave home. Since they aren’t prone to do that on their own, God baits them into eating from the Tree of Knowledge, and places a cherub with a flaming sword to keep them from returning home after college.
God doesn’t want a pliant and fearful Adam but an argumentative and fearless Abraham (the Abraham of the Sodom story not the Abraham of the Isaac story). God wants rebels, freethinkers, and people who will stand up to him and, like Job, demand that he explain himself.
Christianity and Islam focus largely on the next life, and hence have strong cultures of martyrdom and death attached to them. Judaism has its martyrs but we created the Kol Nidre prayer to help erase the guilt of those Jews who chose to convert to Catholicism rather than die at the hand of the Inquisition. The rabbis taught that God gave us his commandments that we might live by them not die because of them. Heaven and Hell are footnotes in Judaism. It is this world and the transformation of this world through justice and compassion that is the focus of Judaism. Where Christians and Muslims worry about getting into heaven, Jews worry about making heaven here on earth. This was Jesus’ very Jewish message of the kingdom of God being within you and around you, as opposed to the obsession with the afterlife that overwhelms so many of his worshippers.
Jews are called Yisrael, Godwrestlers. We are expected to challenge, argue, and struggle with God and what it means to live godly lives. Yes there are wimps among us who don’t take up the challenge, and we too decry films we find anti-Semitic, but at our best we are Godwrestlers eager to test ourselves against God and smash the idols the pass for God in order to push both the human and the divine toward something greater. This is what it means to be a Jew, and this is why I am proud to be one.
Actually I sympathize with groups complaining about movies. Year’s ago I started a campaign against “It’s a Wonderful Life” arguing that no real angel would ever be named Clarence. But there is a twist in the whining about “The Golden Compass” that makes this instance of movie madness all the more interesting. Where most authors and filmmakers deny any attack on religion, Philip Pullman admits his trilogy recasts the Fall from the Garden of Eden not as “the source of all woe and misery, as in the traditional Christian teaching, but as the beginning of true human freedom, something to be celebrated not lamented.” Amen!
We Jews wrote the story and we never called it the Fall. Eve is the Hebrew Prometheus stealing wisdom from God, and, if you follow the midrash (commentary) that says the serpent is the Messiah in disguise, this is exactly what God had in mind.
The Garden of Eden is a metaphor for childhood. God, like any good parent, wants her children to grow up and leave home. Since they aren’t prone to do that on their own, God baits them into eating from the Tree of Knowledge, and places a cherub with a flaming sword to keep them from returning home after college.
God doesn’t want a pliant and fearful Adam but an argumentative and fearless Abraham (the Abraham of the Sodom story not the Abraham of the Isaac story). God wants rebels, freethinkers, and people who will stand up to him and, like Job, demand that he explain himself.
Christianity and Islam focus largely on the next life, and hence have strong cultures of martyrdom and death attached to them. Judaism has its martyrs but we created the Kol Nidre prayer to help erase the guilt of those Jews who chose to convert to Catholicism rather than die at the hand of the Inquisition. The rabbis taught that God gave us his commandments that we might live by them not die because of them. Heaven and Hell are footnotes in Judaism. It is this world and the transformation of this world through justice and compassion that is the focus of Judaism. Where Christians and Muslims worry about getting into heaven, Jews worry about making heaven here on earth. This was Jesus’ very Jewish message of the kingdom of God being within you and around you, as opposed to the obsession with the afterlife that overwhelms so many of his worshippers.
Jews are called Yisrael, Godwrestlers. We are expected to challenge, argue, and struggle with God and what it means to live godly lives. Yes there are wimps among us who don’t take up the challenge, and we too decry films we find anti-Semitic, but at our best we are Godwrestlers eager to test ourselves against God and smash the idols the pass for God in order to push both the human and the divine toward something greater. This is what it means to be a Jew, and this is why I am proud to be one.
Friday, November 30, 2007
ADHD of the Soul
Sufis use the analogy of a walnut when explaining the interdependence of esoteric and exoteric religion. The inner (esoteric) and universal core of all religion is the meat of the nut. The outer (exoteric) organized structure of rules and creeds is the shell. The shell is absolutely necessary to the development and protection of the meat. Yet to eat the walnut you have to crack its shell. The key is knowing when and how to do the cracking.
Some people crack it too soon, before the meat is ready to be eaten. What they find is a glimpse of universal truth, but one that is unripe and inedible. Some people crack it too late, after the meat has rotted. What they find is equally inedible and lacking even a glimpse of truth. There are others who believe you can grow the meat without a shell, and still others who insist there is no meat and worship only the shell. Both are misguided.
I am often associated with the meat-without-a-shell camp. This is due to my extreme liberalism (bordering on anarchy) when it comes to religious laws and precepts. I am allergic to religious rules. Even getting near such rules makes me antsy, hyper, and rebellious. I suffer from ADHD (Anti Dogma Hyperspiritual Disorder), the inability to follow religious disciplines for any significant length of time fuelled by a compulsion to experience God as the sole reality.
Its not that I don’t want to sit through a prayer service, it is only that the words of the prayers don’t make sense to me and I begin to argue with them. It isn’t that I don’t want to believe, it is that I get claustrophobic when confined to fixed beliefs. Yet I do understand the need for a shell, even as I feel compelled to crack it as soon as I am confronted with one.
Sometimes I crack them too early; and sometimes, though very rarely, I crack them too late. But I can’t help cracking them. And every once in a while I crack them just in time, and find the wonderful meat of truth at the heart of the nut and nuttiness of religion.
How do I crack the shell of religion? There are, no doubt innumerable ways, but the one I find most useful is recitation of a Divine Name or phrase. Called nama-japa in Hinduism, nembutsu in Buddhism, dhikr in Islam, gerushin in Judaism, and ceaseless prayer in Christianity, the recitation of a Name is the simplest method I know to crack the shell of religion and get at the meat of spirituality.
All you do is find a Name (or Names) that speaks to you (I use several but began my practice with HaRachaman, the Compassionate One) and repeat it silently all day long. Of course there are times when you forget to say it, but when you notice you have stopped, just start again. No harm, no foul. In time, and it may be a long time, you will discover that God’s presence is palpable to you, and that the Name you are reciting is your name and the name of everything else as well. Then you are ready to crack the shell and eat the meat, but by then you will discover the shell is already cracked for you, and you are no longer hungry.
Some people crack it too soon, before the meat is ready to be eaten. What they find is a glimpse of universal truth, but one that is unripe and inedible. Some people crack it too late, after the meat has rotted. What they find is equally inedible and lacking even a glimpse of truth. There are others who believe you can grow the meat without a shell, and still others who insist there is no meat and worship only the shell. Both are misguided.
I am often associated with the meat-without-a-shell camp. This is due to my extreme liberalism (bordering on anarchy) when it comes to religious laws and precepts. I am allergic to religious rules. Even getting near such rules makes me antsy, hyper, and rebellious. I suffer from ADHD (Anti Dogma Hyperspiritual Disorder), the inability to follow religious disciplines for any significant length of time fuelled by a compulsion to experience God as the sole reality.
Its not that I don’t want to sit through a prayer service, it is only that the words of the prayers don’t make sense to me and I begin to argue with them. It isn’t that I don’t want to believe, it is that I get claustrophobic when confined to fixed beliefs. Yet I do understand the need for a shell, even as I feel compelled to crack it as soon as I am confronted with one.
Sometimes I crack them too early; and sometimes, though very rarely, I crack them too late. But I can’t help cracking them. And every once in a while I crack them just in time, and find the wonderful meat of truth at the heart of the nut and nuttiness of religion.
How do I crack the shell of religion? There are, no doubt innumerable ways, but the one I find most useful is recitation of a Divine Name or phrase. Called nama-japa in Hinduism, nembutsu in Buddhism, dhikr in Islam, gerushin in Judaism, and ceaseless prayer in Christianity, the recitation of a Name is the simplest method I know to crack the shell of religion and get at the meat of spirituality.
All you do is find a Name (or Names) that speaks to you (I use several but began my practice with HaRachaman, the Compassionate One) and repeat it silently all day long. Of course there are times when you forget to say it, but when you notice you have stopped, just start again. No harm, no foul. In time, and it may be a long time, you will discover that God’s presence is palpable to you, and that the Name you are reciting is your name and the name of everything else as well. Then you are ready to crack the shell and eat the meat, but by then you will discover the shell is already cracked for you, and you are no longer hungry.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Lord's Preyers
I am a not a fan of organized religion. In fact my rule of thumb is, “The more organized a religion is, the less trustworthy and the more dangerous it is.” Why? Because organization requires power, and power creates elites, and power hungry elites have only one concern: securing more power. Here is just one example.
Following the pedophile priest scandal, the Church leadership promised a “zero tolerance” attitude toward priests who prey on kids. Yet the Conference of Catholic Bishops has just installed Cardinal Francis George of Chicago as its new president. The good Cardinal is known for protecting pedophile priests, claiming that it is wrong to make “permanent pariahs” of these servants of God.
Can a pedophile priest really be a servant of God? Can a priest who believes in God, presumably a God who does not himself approve of pedophilia, engage in such horrific behavior? If the fear of eternal damnation isn’t enough to keep you from raping children, then what good is a just God anyway? It seems more plausible to me that priests who rape children are not really men of faith. There is no group called Pedophiles for Christ. If you give in to such evil I suspect your faith in God is wanting. So, please Cardinal, lets stop calling these people “servants of God.” (Unless, of course the god we are talking about is Moloch.)
And it gets worse. Despite his supposed zero-tolerance stance, Cardinal George hired a convicted pedophile as a liturgical consultant in 2003, and Or ignored evidence brought by the mother of a molested 8 year-old allowing the boy’s molester to continue teaching and coaching, and ultimately to rape another boy for which he was finally arrested. Poor old servant of God. But perhaps I am being too harsh. Perhaps I don’t understand what is really at stake here.
The Cardinal’s Bishop, Thomas J. Paprocki, recently gave a sermon in which he declared that those victims of priestly rape who demand justice from the Church are waging war against the Holy Sea, and placing the church “under attack.” And who is behind this pernicious attack on the Church? According to Bishop Paprocki “the principle force behind these attacks in none other than the devil.”
The victims of the Church are minions of Satan! But if this is true, and I have no way to prove it isn’t, when the Church settles with these devil spawn and pays them millions and millions of dollars, isn’t the Church essentially funding the work of the Devil? Can the Church and Satan be in cahoots? Do they really need each other so badly as to make their bond so blatant? Do they really think we are so stupid not to notice?
My God, where is Dan Brown when you need him?
Following the pedophile priest scandal, the Church leadership promised a “zero tolerance” attitude toward priests who prey on kids. Yet the Conference of Catholic Bishops has just installed Cardinal Francis George of Chicago as its new president. The good Cardinal is known for protecting pedophile priests, claiming that it is wrong to make “permanent pariahs” of these servants of God.
Can a pedophile priest really be a servant of God? Can a priest who believes in God, presumably a God who does not himself approve of pedophilia, engage in such horrific behavior? If the fear of eternal damnation isn’t enough to keep you from raping children, then what good is a just God anyway? It seems more plausible to me that priests who rape children are not really men of faith. There is no group called Pedophiles for Christ. If you give in to such evil I suspect your faith in God is wanting. So, please Cardinal, lets stop calling these people “servants of God.” (Unless, of course the god we are talking about is Moloch.)
And it gets worse. Despite his supposed zero-tolerance stance, Cardinal George hired a convicted pedophile as a liturgical consultant in 2003, and Or ignored evidence brought by the mother of a molested 8 year-old allowing the boy’s molester to continue teaching and coaching, and ultimately to rape another boy for which he was finally arrested. Poor old servant of God. But perhaps I am being too harsh. Perhaps I don’t understand what is really at stake here.
The Cardinal’s Bishop, Thomas J. Paprocki, recently gave a sermon in which he declared that those victims of priestly rape who demand justice from the Church are waging war against the Holy Sea, and placing the church “under attack.” And who is behind this pernicious attack on the Church? According to Bishop Paprocki “the principle force behind these attacks in none other than the devil.”
The victims of the Church are minions of Satan! But if this is true, and I have no way to prove it isn’t, when the Church settles with these devil spawn and pays them millions and millions of dollars, isn’t the Church essentially funding the work of the Devil? Can the Church and Satan be in cahoots? Do they really need each other so badly as to make their bond so blatant? Do they really think we are so stupid not to notice?
My God, where is Dan Brown when you need him?
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Don't Bogart My Birth
Officially the government of Communist China rejects reincarnation as superstition. Just as officially they want to make sure that they get to control the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama so as to further their domination of Tibet and the destruction of Tibetan culture. While the Chinese government is convinced that reincarnation is a fiction, it is a fiction believed in by millions of people, and therefore carries tremendous political weight. Who ever the next Dalai Lama is, and they have no doubt there will be one, it would be in the best interest of the Communist Chinese if he were more red than maroon.
Lots of people believe in reincarnation. Hindus do, Buddhists do, New Agers do, and kabbalistic-leaning Jews do as well. What do they know that the Communist Chinese do not? Or, conversely, what does the Chinese government know that the Chinese people do not?
To find out I went to the source, my local Chinese restaurant. I spoke with Lin Tai (not his real name, which he was more than happy to give me, but which I was incapable of pronouncing or spelling), who has run the restaurant since coming to this country to build the railroad. Yes, I know that was well over a century ago, and, no, Lin Tai isn’t that old, but he is the reincarnation of a Chinese worker on the railroad. Or at least I assume that to be the case, since how else do Chinese people maintain their numbers here in America?
Think about it: A Jewish soul couldn’t reincarnate as Chinese because of the pork in their diet. A European soul wouldn’t feel comfortable in a Chinese body, and an African or African American would find the color confusion overwhelming. So only Chinese people reincarnate as Chinese. Since most Chinese people came to the United States to build the railroad (I don’t know this for a fact, but it could be true), all subsequent Chinese must be reincarnations of the original builders.
This, of course, raises issues of pensions. Can a reincarnated soul continue receiving pension checks from a previous life? To find out I went to the source, my local train depot. There I spoke with Billy Bob Wayne John Horton (not his real name either, but only because I think I got the order of his names wrong). Billy Bob was a Christian who belonged to the nondenominational Church of the Blood Drenched Way and was not a believer in reincarnation. Nor did he believe that Chinese people had anything to do with his railroad, having himself worked for the railroad for over thirty years and never once meeting a Chinese coworker. When I asked him about pensions for reincarnated people he sniffed and went to the men’s room to pee. I waited awhile, but I suspect he had been drinking a lot of Mountain Dew and wasn’t coming out anytime soon, so I went back to Lin Tai and the Chinese restaurant.
Lin Tai was out, but I spoke to Francis Xavier Thomas Aquinas (this was his name) who delivered food for Lin Tai. Francis Xavier was a Catholic and didn’t have any idea as to what I was talking about. But he did say that if the Chinese tried to control the rebirth of the Dalai Lama, the President of the United States could bomb them. “And that’s why I’m voting for Cheney in the next election.” Made sense to me.
Lots of people believe in reincarnation. Hindus do, Buddhists do, New Agers do, and kabbalistic-leaning Jews do as well. What do they know that the Communist Chinese do not? Or, conversely, what does the Chinese government know that the Chinese people do not?
To find out I went to the source, my local Chinese restaurant. I spoke with Lin Tai (not his real name, which he was more than happy to give me, but which I was incapable of pronouncing or spelling), who has run the restaurant since coming to this country to build the railroad. Yes, I know that was well over a century ago, and, no, Lin Tai isn’t that old, but he is the reincarnation of a Chinese worker on the railroad. Or at least I assume that to be the case, since how else do Chinese people maintain their numbers here in America?
Think about it: A Jewish soul couldn’t reincarnate as Chinese because of the pork in their diet. A European soul wouldn’t feel comfortable in a Chinese body, and an African or African American would find the color confusion overwhelming. So only Chinese people reincarnate as Chinese. Since most Chinese people came to the United States to build the railroad (I don’t know this for a fact, but it could be true), all subsequent Chinese must be reincarnations of the original builders.
This, of course, raises issues of pensions. Can a reincarnated soul continue receiving pension checks from a previous life? To find out I went to the source, my local train depot. There I spoke with Billy Bob Wayne John Horton (not his real name either, but only because I think I got the order of his names wrong). Billy Bob was a Christian who belonged to the nondenominational Church of the Blood Drenched Way and was not a believer in reincarnation. Nor did he believe that Chinese people had anything to do with his railroad, having himself worked for the railroad for over thirty years and never once meeting a Chinese coworker. When I asked him about pensions for reincarnated people he sniffed and went to the men’s room to pee. I waited awhile, but I suspect he had been drinking a lot of Mountain Dew and wasn’t coming out anytime soon, so I went back to Lin Tai and the Chinese restaurant.
Lin Tai was out, but I spoke to Francis Xavier Thomas Aquinas (this was his name) who delivered food for Lin Tai. Francis Xavier was a Catholic and didn’t have any idea as to what I was talking about. But he did say that if the Chinese tried to control the rebirth of the Dalai Lama, the President of the United States could bomb them. “And that’s why I’m voting for Cheney in the next election.” Made sense to me.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Winnie-the-Prophet
First it was cartoons and now it is teddy bears. Where will it end?
Britain’s Telegraph reported today that Gillian Gibbons, a first grade teacher at Unity High School, a British International school in Sudan, has been arrested by the Sudanese authorities for defaming Islam. What was her crime? She allowed her class to name their teddy bear mascot Mohammed.
Now I know that most people are going to rise up and cry out against the madness that is Islam, but I am not one of them. Can you imagine a class naming its mascot Christ? Of course not. It would never even occur to people to do that. Of course if you lived in a Spanish speaking community where Jesus is a common first name, you might name your bear Jesus. But certainly that can’t apply to Islam. I mean how many Muslim men are named Mohammed?
I personally know six Muslim men and not one of them is named Mohammed, so, based on my albeit unscientific but nevertheless personally compelling survey, no Muslim men are named Mohammed so the parallel with Jesus (pronounced Hay-Suse in Spanish or Hey Yous in Brooklyn) doesn’t apply.
It is true that one might choose to name a bear Moses and Jews would not find that upsetting, but imagine Jews naming a bear YHVH? The mere fact that I wrote YHVH is a sacrilege, for which YHVH or the followers of YHVH will certainly condemn me. Then again Mohammed isn’t Allah, and the kids didn’t choose to name their bear Allah, so maybe the analogy doesn’t apply. Yet the mascot issue is as much a Jewish concern as it is an Islamic one.
Thousands of years ago the Israelites voted to name their mascot, the Golden Calf, God. When the real God, YHVH (oops, did it again!) heard about it he sent Moses to straighten them out. Thousands of people were killed for the offense of naming their cow God. In light of that act of religious justice, imprisoning and whipping Ms. Gibbons is an act of judicial leniency.
As a Jew who has learned the lesson of the Golden Calf, I am sympathetic to the Sudanese in this case. If the Jews could mistake their mascot for God, letting kids name their teddy bear Mohammed only invites confusion. In time some of them will inevitably mistake the teddy bear for the Prophet, PBH, and once that happens all hell will break loose.
So to Ms. Gibbons I say, “Damn you, woman, knoweth thou not better than to leadeth thy children into blasphemy?”
And to the Sudanese I say, “While you are whipping Ms. Gibbons for blasphemy, take a moment to test that bear for lead poisoning. It was probably made in China. You can never be too careful when it comes to our kids.”
Britain’s Telegraph reported today that Gillian Gibbons, a first grade teacher at Unity High School, a British International school in Sudan, has been arrested by the Sudanese authorities for defaming Islam. What was her crime? She allowed her class to name their teddy bear mascot Mohammed.
Now I know that most people are going to rise up and cry out against the madness that is Islam, but I am not one of them. Can you imagine a class naming its mascot Christ? Of course not. It would never even occur to people to do that. Of course if you lived in a Spanish speaking community where Jesus is a common first name, you might name your bear Jesus. But certainly that can’t apply to Islam. I mean how many Muslim men are named Mohammed?
I personally know six Muslim men and not one of them is named Mohammed, so, based on my albeit unscientific but nevertheless personally compelling survey, no Muslim men are named Mohammed so the parallel with Jesus (pronounced Hay-Suse in Spanish or Hey Yous in Brooklyn) doesn’t apply.
It is true that one might choose to name a bear Moses and Jews would not find that upsetting, but imagine Jews naming a bear YHVH? The mere fact that I wrote YHVH is a sacrilege, for which YHVH or the followers of YHVH will certainly condemn me. Then again Mohammed isn’t Allah, and the kids didn’t choose to name their bear Allah, so maybe the analogy doesn’t apply. Yet the mascot issue is as much a Jewish concern as it is an Islamic one.
Thousands of years ago the Israelites voted to name their mascot, the Golden Calf, God. When the real God, YHVH (oops, did it again!) heard about it he sent Moses to straighten them out. Thousands of people were killed for the offense of naming their cow God. In light of that act of religious justice, imprisoning and whipping Ms. Gibbons is an act of judicial leniency.
As a Jew who has learned the lesson of the Golden Calf, I am sympathetic to the Sudanese in this case. If the Jews could mistake their mascot for God, letting kids name their teddy bear Mohammed only invites confusion. In time some of them will inevitably mistake the teddy bear for the Prophet, PBH, and once that happens all hell will break loose.
So to Ms. Gibbons I say, “Damn you, woman, knoweth thou not better than to leadeth thy children into blasphemy?”
And to the Sudanese I say, “While you are whipping Ms. Gibbons for blasphemy, take a moment to test that bear for lead poisoning. It was probably made in China. You can never be too careful when it comes to our kids.”
Saudi Back Lash
You can tell a lot a person by the company they keep. Can the same be said of countries?
I am proud to be a citizen of the United States. Sure I hate our foreign policy, and, yes, I think Dick Cheney and the president have gutted the US Constitution, and I admit that we are an oligarchy run by corporations who care not a whit for human rights or environmental sustainability, but we are still the country that brings you the Kindle.
[If you don’t know what that is, look it up. It is number two on my Christmas list. To discover what is Number one keep reading. And while it is true that I do not celebrate Christmas, I will do so if anyone sends me either the number one or number two items on my list.]
You can see just how far we have fallen from the fact that our government lacks the guts to decry what passes for justice in the homeland of Islam. (At least we are on the books decrying the illegal settlements and expansion of settlements sanctioned by the homeland of Judaism, even if we don’t do anything about it.) I am, of course, talking about the vicious justice system of Saudi Arabia that has sentenced a nineteen-year-old victim of gang rape to six months in prison and 200 lashes with a whip. This was an adjustment of her original sentence of only ninety lashes, the increase being ordered to dissuade her from continuing to appeal her sentence. Her crime? Being alone with a man that was not a relative.
Can it be that our fear of terrorism is so great that we will stay mute in the face of any injustice as long as the perpetrators claim to be on our side? Can it be that we are so cowed by our oil addiction that evildoers can count on us to see no evil unless it isn’t leveled at us? Yes, it can be.
We have to do something, and we can’t wait for the government to do it for us. So here is my sugestion: stop driving your car.
I saw an ad in a magazine today for a Vespa scooter.
[Yes, that’s my Number One! And no, I can’t afford one. And yes, I will add Christmas to by list of must observe holidays if someone sends me one. Yellow would be nice.]
It costs $3500 dollars and gets 70 miles per gallon. What if we all bought Vespas and, basing my numbers on my own 2001 Saturn coupe that gets about 25mpg, cut our consumption of gas by 60%?
I know some people worry about driving a scooter for fear of getting hit by an SUV, but if we all drove them that danger disappears. We could leave one lane for cars and trucks, and the rest for scooters. No more traffic snarls. Commutes would be a breeze. And we would help break the country’s addiction to oil that forces us to kiss the ass of these barbarians who whip women and call it justice. Next thing you know they will be excusing water boarding.
[OK, I admit it. I don’t give a damn about Saudi justice, I was just using it as an excuse to shill for a Vespa. Or a Kindle. Or both. Come on, people, it’s Christmas time: be generous!]
I am proud to be a citizen of the United States. Sure I hate our foreign policy, and, yes, I think Dick Cheney and the president have gutted the US Constitution, and I admit that we are an oligarchy run by corporations who care not a whit for human rights or environmental sustainability, but we are still the country that brings you the Kindle.
[If you don’t know what that is, look it up. It is number two on my Christmas list. To discover what is Number one keep reading. And while it is true that I do not celebrate Christmas, I will do so if anyone sends me either the number one or number two items on my list.]
You can see just how far we have fallen from the fact that our government lacks the guts to decry what passes for justice in the homeland of Islam. (At least we are on the books decrying the illegal settlements and expansion of settlements sanctioned by the homeland of Judaism, even if we don’t do anything about it.) I am, of course, talking about the vicious justice system of Saudi Arabia that has sentenced a nineteen-year-old victim of gang rape to six months in prison and 200 lashes with a whip. This was an adjustment of her original sentence of only ninety lashes, the increase being ordered to dissuade her from continuing to appeal her sentence. Her crime? Being alone with a man that was not a relative.
Can it be that our fear of terrorism is so great that we will stay mute in the face of any injustice as long as the perpetrators claim to be on our side? Can it be that we are so cowed by our oil addiction that evildoers can count on us to see no evil unless it isn’t leveled at us? Yes, it can be.
We have to do something, and we can’t wait for the government to do it for us. So here is my sugestion: stop driving your car.
I saw an ad in a magazine today for a Vespa scooter.
[Yes, that’s my Number One! And no, I can’t afford one. And yes, I will add Christmas to by list of must observe holidays if someone sends me one. Yellow would be nice.]
It costs $3500 dollars and gets 70 miles per gallon. What if we all bought Vespas and, basing my numbers on my own 2001 Saturn coupe that gets about 25mpg, cut our consumption of gas by 60%?
I know some people worry about driving a scooter for fear of getting hit by an SUV, but if we all drove them that danger disappears. We could leave one lane for cars and trucks, and the rest for scooters. No more traffic snarls. Commutes would be a breeze. And we would help break the country’s addiction to oil that forces us to kiss the ass of these barbarians who whip women and call it justice. Next thing you know they will be excusing water boarding.
[OK, I admit it. I don’t give a damn about Saudi justice, I was just using it as an excuse to shill for a Vespa. Or a Kindle. Or both. Come on, people, it’s Christmas time: be generous!]
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Reviving the Real War on Christmas
I am originally from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, home to Bunker Hill, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickenson, and Mary Baker Eddy. I am proud son of Massachusetts, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that I am anti-Christmas.
No, I am not anti-Jesus, anti-Christian, anti-capitalism, or anti-shopping. I am simply pro-Massachusetts, and the great Christian values it brought to this country.
In 1645 Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan brethren took over jolly old England. Deciding that anything jolly was probably of the Devil, they vowed to rid England of such decadent conceits as Christmas. Cromwell and Company banned Christmas and any festivities having to do with it. Not to be bested by their colleagues across the pond, Massachusetts Puritans criminalized Christmas (take that, Bill O’Reilly!), and, in 1659, the General Court of Massachusetts passed the Five-Shilling Anti-Christmas Law:
“Whosoever shall be found observing any such day as Christmas, or the like, either by forbearing labor, feasting, or any other way upon such account as aforesaid, every such person so offending shall pay for each offense five shillings as a fine to the country.”
The law was repealed in 1681, but I would like to reinstate it. Why? First of all it reflects the true Christian values on which our nation was founded. Second it isn’t limited to Christmas; the phrase “or the like” would spell the end of Hanukkah and Kwanza as well, so it isn’t in anyway discriminatory. Third, it would take the madness and meanness out of the last two months of the year.
There is nothing so hateful as a Christian mob whipped into frenzy by some sales scam linked to the birth of a Jew (unless, of course, it is a Christian mob whipped up into an even greater frenzy over the murder of said Jew). The only thing remotely religious about watching shoppers trample one another to get into a store in order to buy to one sanely priced item on the store’s shelves is that it reminds us of Joseph and the very pregnant Mary trying (unsuccessfully) to elbow their way into a Jerusalem inn at the same of year.
Even though the Five-Shilling Anti-Christmas Law was repealed in 1681, our founders must have seen some value in banishing Christmas seeing as Congress was in session on December 25, 1789, the first Christmas under America's new constitution, and Christmas didn’t become a federal holiday until June 26, 1870.
Anyway, I think a country whose original illegal aliens were Puritans who hated Christmas, and whose descendents believe that a return to Christian values would be a good thing, cannot but benefit from outlawing Christmas once again. It will take us a while to get the country back on its Christian track, but in the meantime, if you insist upon celebrating Christmas and thus disrespecting this great country, you should fine yourself five shillings (which in today’s fallen dollar is equal to about 89 cents).
No, I am not anti-Jesus, anti-Christian, anti-capitalism, or anti-shopping. I am simply pro-Massachusetts, and the great Christian values it brought to this country.
In 1645 Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan brethren took over jolly old England. Deciding that anything jolly was probably of the Devil, they vowed to rid England of such decadent conceits as Christmas. Cromwell and Company banned Christmas and any festivities having to do with it. Not to be bested by their colleagues across the pond, Massachusetts Puritans criminalized Christmas (take that, Bill O’Reilly!), and, in 1659, the General Court of Massachusetts passed the Five-Shilling Anti-Christmas Law:
“Whosoever shall be found observing any such day as Christmas, or the like, either by forbearing labor, feasting, or any other way upon such account as aforesaid, every such person so offending shall pay for each offense five shillings as a fine to the country.”
The law was repealed in 1681, but I would like to reinstate it. Why? First of all it reflects the true Christian values on which our nation was founded. Second it isn’t limited to Christmas; the phrase “or the like” would spell the end of Hanukkah and Kwanza as well, so it isn’t in anyway discriminatory. Third, it would take the madness and meanness out of the last two months of the year.
There is nothing so hateful as a Christian mob whipped into frenzy by some sales scam linked to the birth of a Jew (unless, of course, it is a Christian mob whipped up into an even greater frenzy over the murder of said Jew). The only thing remotely religious about watching shoppers trample one another to get into a store in order to buy to one sanely priced item on the store’s shelves is that it reminds us of Joseph and the very pregnant Mary trying (unsuccessfully) to elbow their way into a Jerusalem inn at the same of year.
Even though the Five-Shilling Anti-Christmas Law was repealed in 1681, our founders must have seen some value in banishing Christmas seeing as Congress was in session on December 25, 1789, the first Christmas under America's new constitution, and Christmas didn’t become a federal holiday until June 26, 1870.
Anyway, I think a country whose original illegal aliens were Puritans who hated Christmas, and whose descendents believe that a return to Christian values would be a good thing, cannot but benefit from outlawing Christmas once again. It will take us a while to get the country back on its Christian track, but in the meantime, if you insist upon celebrating Christmas and thus disrespecting this great country, you should fine yourself five shillings (which in today’s fallen dollar is equal to about 89 cents).
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Shoppito Ergo Sum
You know America is doomed when Thanksgiving Day—the actual day, rather than the traditional day after—is now touted as the ultimate shopping day for Christmas. We can’t even take one day out of the year for reflection and thanksgiving. All we have left as a people is shopping: Shoppito ergo sum, as Descartes might have put it, I shop therefore I am.
That is what shopping has become in this country, an act of ontological significance. I know I matter because I own tons of stuff. We are so devoid of anything remotely spiritual that debt has replaced faith as the ultimate benchmark of maturity. Our new prayer is “Our Father Who art in Heaven hallowed by Thy Name… Add to our debts as we add to the debts of those who are indebted to us…”
This is madness, and it must stop. Now.
So I am begging you not to go shopping on Thanksgiving Day. Say no to the people who think we are the real turkeys. Stay home. Or, if you can’t resist, don’t go to the mall. Or if the mall is too enticing, don’t go to the bookstore or the record store or to the Apple Computer store. Or if that is too much to ask, just stay away from the religion section of the first, the classic rock section of the second, and the iMac section of the third. Or if that is too hard, just pretend you don’t recognize me when you pass me in the aisles at these places.
Can you imagine? Getting away from the stress and hassle of having to entertain family and spending the day among the glitz and glamour of perfect strangers—heaven! I’m serious. What is the fun of having friends and relatives come over to your house, grind turkey and cranberry sauce into your freshly washed carpets, bore the hell out of you “catching up” (if I wanted to know how you are doing I would have called you since last Thanksgiving), and then scarf down huge quantities of food and drink only to rush home a couple of hours later to suffer the consequences?
I prefer Christmas to Thanksgiving. Why? Because it isn’t my holy day. I don’t have to bother with a tree and tinsel that turns up for months afterward. I don’t have to buy stuff that nobody wants for people I don’t really care about. I don’t have to alter my black and white wardrobe and wear red and green, or pretend to believe that a Jewish mother would allow herself to give birth in a manger: “Joseph you find us a room in a five-star hotel or I swear when this baby is born he will damn you to hel!” Yep, Christmas is my favorite holy day, right up there with Ramadan when I don’t have to fast, and Kwanza when I don’t have to pretend to be African.
But Thanksgiving is a secular American holy day—all the more secular for having the malls open on the day itself—and I am a secular American. This is my day. Dammit!
But now I have an excuse for skipping the family festivities: I have to go shopping. After all if I don’t get to the store on the first day there is little chance that what I want will no be there on the second day.
So enjoy Thanksgiving, America. Just stop calling it Thanksgiving. Call it what it is: National Turkey Day and be clear who the real turnkeys are.
That is what shopping has become in this country, an act of ontological significance. I know I matter because I own tons of stuff. We are so devoid of anything remotely spiritual that debt has replaced faith as the ultimate benchmark of maturity. Our new prayer is “Our Father Who art in Heaven hallowed by Thy Name… Add to our debts as we add to the debts of those who are indebted to us…”
This is madness, and it must stop. Now.
So I am begging you not to go shopping on Thanksgiving Day. Say no to the people who think we are the real turkeys. Stay home. Or, if you can’t resist, don’t go to the mall. Or if the mall is too enticing, don’t go to the bookstore or the record store or to the Apple Computer store. Or if that is too much to ask, just stay away from the religion section of the first, the classic rock section of the second, and the iMac section of the third. Or if that is too hard, just pretend you don’t recognize me when you pass me in the aisles at these places.
Can you imagine? Getting away from the stress and hassle of having to entertain family and spending the day among the glitz and glamour of perfect strangers—heaven! I’m serious. What is the fun of having friends and relatives come over to your house, grind turkey and cranberry sauce into your freshly washed carpets, bore the hell out of you “catching up” (if I wanted to know how you are doing I would have called you since last Thanksgiving), and then scarf down huge quantities of food and drink only to rush home a couple of hours later to suffer the consequences?
I prefer Christmas to Thanksgiving. Why? Because it isn’t my holy day. I don’t have to bother with a tree and tinsel that turns up for months afterward. I don’t have to buy stuff that nobody wants for people I don’t really care about. I don’t have to alter my black and white wardrobe and wear red and green, or pretend to believe that a Jewish mother would allow herself to give birth in a manger: “Joseph you find us a room in a five-star hotel or I swear when this baby is born he will damn you to hel!” Yep, Christmas is my favorite holy day, right up there with Ramadan when I don’t have to fast, and Kwanza when I don’t have to pretend to be African.
But Thanksgiving is a secular American holy day—all the more secular for having the malls open on the day itself—and I am a secular American. This is my day. Dammit!
But now I have an excuse for skipping the family festivities: I have to go shopping. After all if I don’t get to the store on the first day there is little chance that what I want will no be there on the second day.
So enjoy Thanksgiving, America. Just stop calling it Thanksgiving. Call it what it is: National Turkey Day and be clear who the real turnkeys are.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Join My Tribe
True genius knows how to turn lead into gold, or at least lemons into lemonade. I am not a true genius, but every once in a while I stumble upon an idea that is just too good to pass up. My latest breakthrough came from the Kaweah Indian Nation, a fake Native American tribe that has been selling tribal memberships to illegal aliens for $400 per membership. The tribal elders promised that members would get Social Security numbers and become US citizens.
While the Kaweah were declared fraudulent in 1984, and while a current lawsuit prohibits them from continuing their membership drive, I love the idea and wish to apply it to my own tribe, the Jews.
Our numbers are small and shrinking. We need members and current rates of conversion aren’t even making a dent in our rate of decline. Even when counting as Jews only people recognized as Jews by the Reform Jewish establishment we are still a dying tribe. So why not sell memberships? After all it is much easier to market a $400 membership than it is to market the current cost of male membership: circumcision. And, unlike severed foreskins, the cash collected can be used to promote Jewish projects.
My idea has the added bonus of bringing people into a real tribe. The downside is that being a Jew in America is not the same as being an American Jew, and we could not promise social security numbers and citizenship. At least not in this country. But what about Israel?
The Law of Return states that any Jew can become an automatic citizen of Israel. And Israel will help settle them and teach them Hebrew. Getting illegal aliens to convert to Judaism and then shipping them off to Israel would solve two problems. First it would increase the size of the Jewish nation. Second it would provide a workable answer to the question, What do we do with the millions of illegal aliens already in the US?
So my idea is this: First we set up registration tables on the Mexican side of the US border. We can spare people the dangerous trek into the US and fly them to Tel Aviv from Mexico City. This will stop the tide of new illegal immigrants into the United States. Second, in cities across the country we advertise Jewish tribal memberships for $400 (with discounts for families). Some of the money we collect will be used to pay rabbis to perform mass conversions. They will convert the illegal aliens to Judaism and give them a card stating that they are now members of the tribe. At that point they can A) move to Israel, or B) stay in the US and claim the US government’s refusal to give them citizenship is an act of anti-Semitism.
This seems like a win-win proposition to me. I think it could even be done on line. People could convert by pledging allegiance to God, Torah, and Israel, pay using a credit card, and then book a flight to the homeland on Orbitz or Expedia.
I plan to offer my idea to each of the presidential candidates. I’ll let you know which if any choose to use it.
While the Kaweah were declared fraudulent in 1984, and while a current lawsuit prohibits them from continuing their membership drive, I love the idea and wish to apply it to my own tribe, the Jews.
Our numbers are small and shrinking. We need members and current rates of conversion aren’t even making a dent in our rate of decline. Even when counting as Jews only people recognized as Jews by the Reform Jewish establishment we are still a dying tribe. So why not sell memberships? After all it is much easier to market a $400 membership than it is to market the current cost of male membership: circumcision. And, unlike severed foreskins, the cash collected can be used to promote Jewish projects.
My idea has the added bonus of bringing people into a real tribe. The downside is that being a Jew in America is not the same as being an American Jew, and we could not promise social security numbers and citizenship. At least not in this country. But what about Israel?
The Law of Return states that any Jew can become an automatic citizen of Israel. And Israel will help settle them and teach them Hebrew. Getting illegal aliens to convert to Judaism and then shipping them off to Israel would solve two problems. First it would increase the size of the Jewish nation. Second it would provide a workable answer to the question, What do we do with the millions of illegal aliens already in the US?
So my idea is this: First we set up registration tables on the Mexican side of the US border. We can spare people the dangerous trek into the US and fly them to Tel Aviv from Mexico City. This will stop the tide of new illegal immigrants into the United States. Second, in cities across the country we advertise Jewish tribal memberships for $400 (with discounts for families). Some of the money we collect will be used to pay rabbis to perform mass conversions. They will convert the illegal aliens to Judaism and give them a card stating that they are now members of the tribe. At that point they can A) move to Israel, or B) stay in the US and claim the US government’s refusal to give them citizenship is an act of anti-Semitism.
This seems like a win-win proposition to me. I think it could even be done on line. People could convert by pledging allegiance to God, Torah, and Israel, pay using a credit card, and then book a flight to the homeland on Orbitz or Expedia.
I plan to offer my idea to each of the presidential candidates. I’ll let you know which if any choose to use it.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Nine Questions About God
[Here are my answers to an email I received asking me about God.]
Thanks for asking what it is I mean when I use the word “God.” God has been at the center of my life since I was sixteen years old. Meditating on the shore of a lake in Cape Cod the while visiting a friend during summer vacation “Rami” died. What happened during that time—however long or short a time that was—is unknown to me, for the “me” that could know was dead. All I know is that when “I” returned I did so in a state of ecstatic joy, aware of the absolute nonduality of all things as the One Thing. I have never doubted the reality of what happened that day, and I have had similar experiences since then. It is my experience that shapes my thinking about God.
Here are brief answers to your questions.
1. Did God create the universe? No. The universe is to God as a wave is to the ocean. While God is greater than the universe, God is not separate from the universe. I do not believe in a Creator God or in an Intelligent Designer, for both imply separation. I believe that the design itself is intelligent, that the universe is a living process seeking self-awareness. We humans are a way the universe awakens to its true nature as God.
2. Did God write the Bible? No. All scriptures are human creations reflecting the biases and moral limitations of the people who wrote them. Yet there are strands of truth in every scripture reflecting a level of human awakening that transcends the limitations of time and tribe and speaks to the universal truth of God and godliness. These teachings are worthy of serious contemplation and study.
3. Do you pray to God? Yes and no. My spiritual life centers on mediation, both walking and sitting. When I walk and chant the Hebrew Names of God I find myself in dialogue with God, whom I experience as Shekhinah, the Divine Mother. When I sit in silence there are moments when “I” dissolve and only God is present.
4. If God is all, is God both good and evil? Yes. God contains evil as well as good. Good and evil go together like convex and concave. You cannot have one without the other. God is the One in whom there is no other.
5. If God is evil as well as good what is the point of worshiping God? I don’t worship God; I seek to realize God in and as all reality. When I awaken to God I realize my own capacity for good and evil. When I see all things as God I have compassion for everything, and act with an open heart even towards those with whom I am struggling.
6. What is the point of religion? At its best religion serves as the collective memory of God realization. We tell stories of saviors, sages, and saints and remind ourselves that God realization is possible. We see how they embraced the world with justice and compassion, and seek to do likewise. We learn the tools of awakening that they used, and wake up ourselves. At its worse religion is a grand and often violent delusion rooted in fear. Unfortunately religion is rarely at its best.
7. Do we need religion? Yes, but only at its best. We need storytellers who can remind us of the best of which we are capable. We need masters of contemplative practice who can teach us how to use the tools of God realization. And we need a community of seekers with whom to share the path and the struggle to walk it.
8. Are all religions true? All religions are true when they speak to the nonduality of God and the universality of justice and compassion. All religions are false when they claim to being the exclusive carriers of God’s love and truth. Religions are like languages. No language is right or wrong, true or false. Yet each brings a valuable and unique understanding of life from which all people can benefit. The more languages you know the more nuanced your understanding. Our goal should not be to find the right religion, but to learn from all of them.
9. Is Jesus the son of God? Yes. And so are you. When Jesus says, “I and the Father are one,” he is like a wave realizing its relationship with the ocean. Jesus was a God-realized human being. He is not to be worshipped, but imitated. What the world needs is fewer Christians and more Christs.
Thanks for asking what it is I mean when I use the word “God.” God has been at the center of my life since I was sixteen years old. Meditating on the shore of a lake in Cape Cod the while visiting a friend during summer vacation “Rami” died. What happened during that time—however long or short a time that was—is unknown to me, for the “me” that could know was dead. All I know is that when “I” returned I did so in a state of ecstatic joy, aware of the absolute nonduality of all things as the One Thing. I have never doubted the reality of what happened that day, and I have had similar experiences since then. It is my experience that shapes my thinking about God.
Here are brief answers to your questions.
1. Did God create the universe? No. The universe is to God as a wave is to the ocean. While God is greater than the universe, God is not separate from the universe. I do not believe in a Creator God or in an Intelligent Designer, for both imply separation. I believe that the design itself is intelligent, that the universe is a living process seeking self-awareness. We humans are a way the universe awakens to its true nature as God.
2. Did God write the Bible? No. All scriptures are human creations reflecting the biases and moral limitations of the people who wrote them. Yet there are strands of truth in every scripture reflecting a level of human awakening that transcends the limitations of time and tribe and speaks to the universal truth of God and godliness. These teachings are worthy of serious contemplation and study.
3. Do you pray to God? Yes and no. My spiritual life centers on mediation, both walking and sitting. When I walk and chant the Hebrew Names of God I find myself in dialogue with God, whom I experience as Shekhinah, the Divine Mother. When I sit in silence there are moments when “I” dissolve and only God is present.
4. If God is all, is God both good and evil? Yes. God contains evil as well as good. Good and evil go together like convex and concave. You cannot have one without the other. God is the One in whom there is no other.
5. If God is evil as well as good what is the point of worshiping God? I don’t worship God; I seek to realize God in and as all reality. When I awaken to God I realize my own capacity for good and evil. When I see all things as God I have compassion for everything, and act with an open heart even towards those with whom I am struggling.
6. What is the point of religion? At its best religion serves as the collective memory of God realization. We tell stories of saviors, sages, and saints and remind ourselves that God realization is possible. We see how they embraced the world with justice and compassion, and seek to do likewise. We learn the tools of awakening that they used, and wake up ourselves. At its worse religion is a grand and often violent delusion rooted in fear. Unfortunately religion is rarely at its best.
7. Do we need religion? Yes, but only at its best. We need storytellers who can remind us of the best of which we are capable. We need masters of contemplative practice who can teach us how to use the tools of God realization. And we need a community of seekers with whom to share the path and the struggle to walk it.
8. Are all religions true? All religions are true when they speak to the nonduality of God and the universality of justice and compassion. All religions are false when they claim to being the exclusive carriers of God’s love and truth. Religions are like languages. No language is right or wrong, true or false. Yet each brings a valuable and unique understanding of life from which all people can benefit. The more languages you know the more nuanced your understanding. Our goal should not be to find the right religion, but to learn from all of them.
9. Is Jesus the son of God? Yes. And so are you. When Jesus says, “I and the Father are one,” he is like a wave realizing its relationship with the ocean. Jesus was a God-realized human being. He is not to be worshipped, but imitated. What the world needs is fewer Christians and more Christs.
Silence!
I like silence. The Illinois Legislature does too, and passed a law that would mandate a moment of silence at the start of every public school day. A federal judge, however, has ordered the Illinois State Board of Education to put a stop to the practice. Why, you ask? I, too, was curious.
At first I thought it was because the name of the state included the word “noise” (the “E” is silent, so they dropped it to save ink on their official documents). It makes no sense to have a moment of silence in the IlliNOISE public schools. On the contrary, they should start their day with noise, maybe a joyous “Halleluyah!” or “Om Nama Shivaya.”
No, that would violate the separation of church and state since both shouts speak of gods (Yah and Shiva, respectively), which, as it turns out, is what’s wrong with a mandatory moment of silence as well.
Leading the attack on mandatory silence is Rob Sherman, atheist provocateur. The godless Mr. Sherman has a daughter who is a freshman in an Illinois high school, and dad worries that forcing her to be quite violates her First Amendment rights.
He is right, of course, and that saddens me. I would love to see each school day begin with thirty minutes of contemplative silence, not the fifteen seconds Illinois is talking about. It would have to be optional, of course. I would even go so far as to teach kids different ways to use that silence such as contemplative reading and meditation (prayer they should learn outside of school).
And I wouldn’t stop with schools. I would like to see meditative silence at the start of everyone’s day. If nothing else, just sit and breathe. Or do what I do every morning and repeat the phrase, “Has it been thirty minutes yet? Has it been thirty minutes yet?”
I support voluntary prayer in school and did a lot of it myself (“Dear God, please make Ms. Jacobs sick today, I didn’t study for her Algebra II test.”). I support voluntary silence as well, and not just in the morning (it isn’t fair that teachers call on you for answers without your permission). Hell, if it were up to me I’d bring Thich Nhat Han into every school to teach kids how to walk the halls mindfully, and chew their lunch with full attention.
So I am asking the Illinois Legislature, its Governor, and its atheist provocateurs to work together to find a way to combat the “ill” of “nois(e)” and find a way to bring some silence to our mornings and some sanity to our lives.
At first I thought it was because the name of the state included the word “noise” (the “E” is silent, so they dropped it to save ink on their official documents). It makes no sense to have a moment of silence in the IlliNOISE public schools. On the contrary, they should start their day with noise, maybe a joyous “Halleluyah!” or “Om Nama Shivaya.”
No, that would violate the separation of church and state since both shouts speak of gods (Yah and Shiva, respectively), which, as it turns out, is what’s wrong with a mandatory moment of silence as well.
Leading the attack on mandatory silence is Rob Sherman, atheist provocateur. The godless Mr. Sherman has a daughter who is a freshman in an Illinois high school, and dad worries that forcing her to be quite violates her First Amendment rights.
He is right, of course, and that saddens me. I would love to see each school day begin with thirty minutes of contemplative silence, not the fifteen seconds Illinois is talking about. It would have to be optional, of course. I would even go so far as to teach kids different ways to use that silence such as contemplative reading and meditation (prayer they should learn outside of school).
And I wouldn’t stop with schools. I would like to see meditative silence at the start of everyone’s day. If nothing else, just sit and breathe. Or do what I do every morning and repeat the phrase, “Has it been thirty minutes yet? Has it been thirty minutes yet?”
I support voluntary prayer in school and did a lot of it myself (“Dear God, please make Ms. Jacobs sick today, I didn’t study for her Algebra II test.”). I support voluntary silence as well, and not just in the morning (it isn’t fair that teachers call on you for answers without your permission). Hell, if it were up to me I’d bring Thich Nhat Han into every school to teach kids how to walk the halls mindfully, and chew their lunch with full attention.
So I am asking the Illinois Legislature, its Governor, and its atheist provocateurs to work together to find a way to combat the “ill” of “nois(e)” and find a way to bring some silence to our mornings and some sanity to our lives.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Math of God, Follow-Up
Remember Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue’s prayer vigil to let God know Georgians are conserving water and should be rewarded with rain? Well it worked. Sort of.
While the storm clouds that formed during the vigil faded away, rain did fall the day after the vigil. This can’t be a coincidence. Sonny prayed for rain and God sent it. But the governor and chief shaman was quick to say, “We’re not gloating about it.” That’s good, because the one-inch of rain that fell in north Georgia and the half-inch that dampened Atlanta did nothing to ease the state’s crushing drought.
So, praying for rain works: ask and ye shall receive, but it doesn't work well enough to make a difference. What is God up to? According to the Governor it “was a great affirmation for what we asked for.” Really? I think it was an insult. God spits on Georgia and the Governor is happy. How sad. So on behalf of my Georgia neighbors let me say this the Almighty, "Quit fooling around, God! What we need is real rain; the kind of rain You sent to Tennessee’s Marion County that heavily damaged the roof of a Baptist church and sent three little kids to the hospital due to cuts they received from flying glass. Now that’s the rain we're taking about."
But wait, why would God send rain to Tennessee when Georgia is the state praying for it? And why would God use His rain to damage a Baptist church? Can it be that God hates Georgia and isn’t too fond of Baptists? The logic is inescapable.
Why would God hate Georgia? Following the logic of evangelical leaders such as Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell I can only conclude that God hates Georgia because it is gay-friendly. After all GA is only one letter away from advertising itself as the GAY state. And Babptists? What does God have against them? Using the same logic is isn't hard to discover that God is pissed at Baptists because too many of their ministers are closet homosexuals.
So here is my suggestion. First, Governor Purdue should invite all Georgia’s gay and lesbian citizens to an all expense paid trip to Dollywood, the Dolly Parton theme park in Tennessee. While they are out of the state, he should then hold a second prayer vigil and let God know he has cleansed the state of homosexuals, thus allowing God to reward Georgia with real rain.
As for the Baptists, I suggest they build their churches with stronger roofs.
While the storm clouds that formed during the vigil faded away, rain did fall the day after the vigil. This can’t be a coincidence. Sonny prayed for rain and God sent it. But the governor and chief shaman was quick to say, “We’re not gloating about it.” That’s good, because the one-inch of rain that fell in north Georgia and the half-inch that dampened Atlanta did nothing to ease the state’s crushing drought.
So, praying for rain works: ask and ye shall receive, but it doesn't work well enough to make a difference. What is God up to? According to the Governor it “was a great affirmation for what we asked for.” Really? I think it was an insult. God spits on Georgia and the Governor is happy. How sad. So on behalf of my Georgia neighbors let me say this the Almighty, "Quit fooling around, God! What we need is real rain; the kind of rain You sent to Tennessee’s Marion County that heavily damaged the roof of a Baptist church and sent three little kids to the hospital due to cuts they received from flying glass. Now that’s the rain we're taking about."
But wait, why would God send rain to Tennessee when Georgia is the state praying for it? And why would God use His rain to damage a Baptist church? Can it be that God hates Georgia and isn’t too fond of Baptists? The logic is inescapable.
Why would God hate Georgia? Following the logic of evangelical leaders such as Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell I can only conclude that God hates Georgia because it is gay-friendly. After all GA is only one letter away from advertising itself as the GAY state. And Babptists? What does God have against them? Using the same logic is isn't hard to discover that God is pissed at Baptists because too many of their ministers are closet homosexuals.
So here is my suggestion. First, Governor Purdue should invite all Georgia’s gay and lesbian citizens to an all expense paid trip to Dollywood, the Dolly Parton theme park in Tennessee. While they are out of the state, he should then hold a second prayer vigil and let God know he has cleansed the state of homosexuals, thus allowing God to reward Georgia with real rain.
As for the Baptists, I suggest they build their churches with stronger roofs.
Of the Papal, Part Two
The US Conference of Catholic Bishops has released its statement on “faithful citizenship” telling Catholic Americans that they may be endangering their eternal souls if they vote for a candidate who supports the “evils” of abortion, euthanasia, embryonic stem cell research, artificial contraception and racism.
According to the statement, “a Catholic cannot vote for a candidate who takes a position in favor of an intrinsic evil.” Who would argue with this? I won’t vote for a candidate who favors intrinsic evil. But I might draw up a different list of evils. How about the evils of torture, corporate greed, environmental rape, war, and seeking to undermine the Constitution and override legitimate laws passed by Congress? If I had to rank my evils, I would place violation of the Constitution above using a condom. But then I’m not a Catholic bishop.
As the bishops hammered out their statement, Bishop Samuel Aquila of Fargo, ND proposed an amendment warning Catholics of the danger of voting for evil. “Choosing intrinsic evil,” he said, “will have an impact on their salvation.” Bishop Nicholas DiMarzio of Brooklyn, NY argued against Aquila worrying that the bishops should not link politics to salvation. This is nonsense: the statement itself does this implicitly.
For all their concern with pointing Catholics to the right political position, the bishops seem to offer Catholics a way out. The statement says a Catholic may not vote for a politician who supports intrinsic evil if, by so voting, “the voter’s intent is to support that position.” This is a huge loophole: as a good Catholic I can vote for a candidate who supports intrinsic evil as long as I am thinking of other policies the candidate supports that are not intrinsically evil. With a loophole this big I can’t see the point in issuing the statement is in the first place.
But what really bothers me is the Bishop’s definition of intrinsic evil. Being against abortion means you are in favor of mothers dying in childbirth. Being against euthanasia means you are in favor of bringing horribly diseased babies into the world to live out lives of brutal agony. Being against embryonic stem cell research means you are in favor of the suffering of all those who may be helped by such research. Being against artificial contraception means you are in favor of the spread of disease, AIDS, and the crushing burden of poverty that over population brings.
I realize I am overstating my case, but the lack of nuance in Catholic thinking regarding evil demands a stark response.
According to the statement, “a Catholic cannot vote for a candidate who takes a position in favor of an intrinsic evil.” Who would argue with this? I won’t vote for a candidate who favors intrinsic evil. But I might draw up a different list of evils. How about the evils of torture, corporate greed, environmental rape, war, and seeking to undermine the Constitution and override legitimate laws passed by Congress? If I had to rank my evils, I would place violation of the Constitution above using a condom. But then I’m not a Catholic bishop.
As the bishops hammered out their statement, Bishop Samuel Aquila of Fargo, ND proposed an amendment warning Catholics of the danger of voting for evil. “Choosing intrinsic evil,” he said, “will have an impact on their salvation.” Bishop Nicholas DiMarzio of Brooklyn, NY argued against Aquila worrying that the bishops should not link politics to salvation. This is nonsense: the statement itself does this implicitly.
For all their concern with pointing Catholics to the right political position, the bishops seem to offer Catholics a way out. The statement says a Catholic may not vote for a politician who supports intrinsic evil if, by so voting, “the voter’s intent is to support that position.” This is a huge loophole: as a good Catholic I can vote for a candidate who supports intrinsic evil as long as I am thinking of other policies the candidate supports that are not intrinsically evil. With a loophole this big I can’t see the point in issuing the statement is in the first place.
But what really bothers me is the Bishop’s definition of intrinsic evil. Being against abortion means you are in favor of mothers dying in childbirth. Being against euthanasia means you are in favor of bringing horribly diseased babies into the world to live out lives of brutal agony. Being against embryonic stem cell research means you are in favor of the suffering of all those who may be helped by such research. Being against artificial contraception means you are in favor of the spread of disease, AIDS, and the crushing burden of poverty that over population brings.
I realize I am overstating my case, but the lack of nuance in Catholic thinking regarding evil demands a stark response.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I, Apikoros
I am not a person who shuns labels. On the contrary, I find labels to be a helpful shorthand, and I am always on the lookout for better ones. This week I was given a new one that I especially cherish: apikoros.
I was speaking with an Orthodox Rabbi from Israel earlier this week, and as we shared our views on God, Torah, and Israel he calmly informed me that I was an apikoros, a heretic. I didn’t believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; I didn’t believe the Torah was God’s word; I didn’t believe the mitzvot (commandments) were God’s law; and I didn’t believe the Jews are the Chosen People.
“Then what do you believe?” he asked.
“I believe that God is Reality, an ever flowing system of creative destruction that defies naming and theological certainty (Ehyeh asher Ehyeh as Exodus 3:14 puts it), and which, over time, births more and more inclusive levels of consciousness that eventually awaken to know all creation as God. I believe that Torah is a human creation reflecting the biases of its authors and interpreters, and should not replace reason as our ultimate guide for establishing a just and compassionate society. I believe mitzvot are folkways designed to maintain the integrity of the Jewish people, and should be voluntary and open to constant refinement so as to reflect the best insights of our people. I believe that the people Israel are a people like any other seeking meaning and purpose, and yet often trapped in jingoism and xenophobia. I believe that Zionism is a legitimate movement of national liberation which should work for the liberation of all peoples...”
“Apikoros!” he said, and walked away.
Apikoros is Hebrew for Epicurus, the 3rd century BCE Greek philosopher who taught a secular, atheistic understanding of reality that placed reason and the pursuit of happiness at the center of human life. The ancient rabbis feared the influence of Epicureanism and used the term apikoros (apikorsim, plural) to mean “heretic” in the same way Ann Coulter uses the word “liberal” to mean “godless and un-American.” The rabbis even added a curse upon apikorsim to their liturgy: “may all the apikorsim be destroyed in an instant” (part of the 18th benediction of the Amidah).
I knew the meaning of the word, and was not hurt by being called an apikoros. On the contrary, I took a perverse pleasure in it. Famous Jewish apikorsim include the authors of Ecclesiastes and Job, Alisha ben Abuya, Hiwi al-Balkhi, Spinoza, Freud, Einstein, Herzl, Buber, Mordecai Kaplan, and Ben Gurion. These are all heroes of mine, and I am honored to be counted among them.
Indeed it seems to me that being an apikoros is exactly right for me. It is the Hebrew equivalent of a Holy Rascal, another label I value. In fact I’m thinking of creating a new denomination of Judaism: Apikorsut Judaism for the celebration of Jewish heretics and freethinking. I just have to figure our the dues structure and I’m in business.
I was speaking with an Orthodox Rabbi from Israel earlier this week, and as we shared our views on God, Torah, and Israel he calmly informed me that I was an apikoros, a heretic. I didn’t believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; I didn’t believe the Torah was God’s word; I didn’t believe the mitzvot (commandments) were God’s law; and I didn’t believe the Jews are the Chosen People.
“Then what do you believe?” he asked.
“I believe that God is Reality, an ever flowing system of creative destruction that defies naming and theological certainty (Ehyeh asher Ehyeh as Exodus 3:14 puts it), and which, over time, births more and more inclusive levels of consciousness that eventually awaken to know all creation as God. I believe that Torah is a human creation reflecting the biases of its authors and interpreters, and should not replace reason as our ultimate guide for establishing a just and compassionate society. I believe mitzvot are folkways designed to maintain the integrity of the Jewish people, and should be voluntary and open to constant refinement so as to reflect the best insights of our people. I believe that the people Israel are a people like any other seeking meaning and purpose, and yet often trapped in jingoism and xenophobia. I believe that Zionism is a legitimate movement of national liberation which should work for the liberation of all peoples...”
“Apikoros!” he said, and walked away.
Apikoros is Hebrew for Epicurus, the 3rd century BCE Greek philosopher who taught a secular, atheistic understanding of reality that placed reason and the pursuit of happiness at the center of human life. The ancient rabbis feared the influence of Epicureanism and used the term apikoros (apikorsim, plural) to mean “heretic” in the same way Ann Coulter uses the word “liberal” to mean “godless and un-American.” The rabbis even added a curse upon apikorsim to their liturgy: “may all the apikorsim be destroyed in an instant” (part of the 18th benediction of the Amidah).
I knew the meaning of the word, and was not hurt by being called an apikoros. On the contrary, I took a perverse pleasure in it. Famous Jewish apikorsim include the authors of Ecclesiastes and Job, Alisha ben Abuya, Hiwi al-Balkhi, Spinoza, Freud, Einstein, Herzl, Buber, Mordecai Kaplan, and Ben Gurion. These are all heroes of mine, and I am honored to be counted among them.
Indeed it seems to me that being an apikoros is exactly right for me. It is the Hebrew equivalent of a Holy Rascal, another label I value. In fact I’m thinking of creating a new denomination of Judaism: Apikorsut Judaism for the celebration of Jewish heretics and freethinking. I just have to figure our the dues structure and I’m in business.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Math of God
Praying for rain isn’t new, but when the Governor of Georgia does it on steps of the state Capitol it is news. Last Tuesday, Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue and 250 of the faithful held a prayer vigil asking God to end the drought that is plaguing the state and much of the southeastern United States.
Governor Perdue felt that Georgians were being punished by God for their failure to conserve their water resources properly. “But we’re doing better,” the Governor said, “and once we began to do better, I thought it was time to acknowledge that to the Creator,” suggesting, of course that the all-knowing God isn’t so all-knowing.
I wasn’t there, but I imagine the Governor said something like this:
“Lord, this is Sonny. No not THAT Sonny, I suspect He’s busy with pre-Rapture planning. This is Sonny Perdue. No, not THAT Perdue, he is busy with his chickens. This is Sonny Perdue, Governor of the all too sunny state of Georgia. Yes, the Peach state. Well, we are going to be the peach pit state soon because we’ve used up all of our water and You are punishing us for that by not letting it rain. I just wanted You to know that we are conserving more these days. We have learned our lesson. So could You please let it rain… a lot… for a long time? Not Noah long, but long.”
Did it work? Well, almost. As Sonny and the 250 sang Amazing Grace storm clouds formed and floated toward the Capitol (I am not making this up). Unfortunately the clouds dissipated quickly and no rain fell. Why? While I can’t prove this, I suspect that the clouds failed because (and this, too, is true) just around the corner from the prayer meeting, 20 members of the Atlanta Freethought Society, a band of atheists, agnostics, skeptics, and heretics, held a protest rally claiming the Governor was violating the First Amendment. I believe the heretics stopped the clouds from unleashing rain.
What do we learn from this? I think we learn something about the math of God. It takes 251 Georgians to get God to make a storm cloud and only 20 to get God to erase a storm cloud. The problem the Governor faces is not that Georgians failed to conserve water, or that God failed to notice when they began to do so, but that God favors atheists over theists almost 10 to 1. There is a drought in Georgia because there are too many freethinkers in Georgia.
What the governor should do is work with the Atlanta Freethought folks to identify, round up and bus out of state as many Georgia heretics as they can as soon as they can. With the heretics out of town, a second prayer vigil will certainly succeed. Then, as soon as enough rain has fallen, the Governor can invite the heretics back into the state to get the rain to stop.
If this works, and I don’t see why it wouldn’t, atheists around the country could form pay for service flood protection squads moving into areas with too much rain and thus getting the rain to stop. This would be a great way to raise funds for First Amendment legal battles. It seems like a win-win for everyone.
Governor Perdue felt that Georgians were being punished by God for their failure to conserve their water resources properly. “But we’re doing better,” the Governor said, “and once we began to do better, I thought it was time to acknowledge that to the Creator,” suggesting, of course that the all-knowing God isn’t so all-knowing.
I wasn’t there, but I imagine the Governor said something like this:
“Lord, this is Sonny. No not THAT Sonny, I suspect He’s busy with pre-Rapture planning. This is Sonny Perdue. No, not THAT Perdue, he is busy with his chickens. This is Sonny Perdue, Governor of the all too sunny state of Georgia. Yes, the Peach state. Well, we are going to be the peach pit state soon because we’ve used up all of our water and You are punishing us for that by not letting it rain. I just wanted You to know that we are conserving more these days. We have learned our lesson. So could You please let it rain… a lot… for a long time? Not Noah long, but long.”
Did it work? Well, almost. As Sonny and the 250 sang Amazing Grace storm clouds formed and floated toward the Capitol (I am not making this up). Unfortunately the clouds dissipated quickly and no rain fell. Why? While I can’t prove this, I suspect that the clouds failed because (and this, too, is true) just around the corner from the prayer meeting, 20 members of the Atlanta Freethought Society, a band of atheists, agnostics, skeptics, and heretics, held a protest rally claiming the Governor was violating the First Amendment. I believe the heretics stopped the clouds from unleashing rain.
What do we learn from this? I think we learn something about the math of God. It takes 251 Georgians to get God to make a storm cloud and only 20 to get God to erase a storm cloud. The problem the Governor faces is not that Georgians failed to conserve water, or that God failed to notice when they began to do so, but that God favors atheists over theists almost 10 to 1. There is a drought in Georgia because there are too many freethinkers in Georgia.
What the governor should do is work with the Atlanta Freethought folks to identify, round up and bus out of state as many Georgia heretics as they can as soon as they can. With the heretics out of town, a second prayer vigil will certainly succeed. Then, as soon as enough rain has fallen, the Governor can invite the heretics back into the state to get the rain to stop.
If this works, and I don’t see why it wouldn’t, atheists around the country could form pay for service flood protection squads moving into areas with too much rain and thus getting the rain to stop. This would be a great way to raise funds for First Amendment legal battles. It seems like a win-win for everyone.
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