It would be irresponsible to blog that I hated the book. Because that's SOOO not the case. There were elements of it that I absolutely adored... The Burns stuff makes me laugh out loud every time I read it, the chapter on Jesus was phenomenal, anything that had to do with the economy and the greed in our culture was (my opinion) spot on. I got lost in some of the sci-fi and gaming stuff, I expected to, they just haven't (yet) piqued my interest.
However, there's an underlying anti-religion message. Keep in mind, that is vastly different from an anti-faith message. Religion is the communal expression of a shared faith. Be it the Catholic religion, the Jewish religion, the Hindu religion, the Buddhist religion, you get the point... Faith doesn't mean squat if it can't be shared, examined, torn apart (more about this in a bit), and subjected to some scrutiny. I believe that people don't come to blindly accept a faith anymore. I think there is far too much evidence in our scientific world to suggest that we can pretty much explain just about everything. And that's cool. But it can't explain that feeling I have when I see my children (or the ultrasound pictures of my daughter's twins). There's something THERE. I don't know what it is, but I think it's the work of the Divine in my life.
I've come to learn to have a profound disrespect for my Church. It's sad, really. I wanted to be a Catholic priest. I would have been an awesome priest. But they wouldn't let me, because I also wanted to be a Dad. My choice was amazingly correct. But I studied the religious aspect of that faith (ad nauseum) and the historical implications from whence it came. I understand how theology adapted to changing society. I understand what happened to the Church (note the capitalization) during the feudal society and the role of the Catholic hierarchy in that society. And I understand that the choices the Church made were easy. After all, their priests and hierarchy were the only ones who knew how to read and write! You see, we have a problem, honestly. We blame the Church. But the Church was simply adapting to the way society was working. That's kind of like all religions have worked over time. Now, does that make religion itself bad?
There's one more step we have to take, though, before we answer that question. Once we "get" the history, we need to realize how it's applied TODAY. The thing that drove me away from the Catholic Church was the sexual abuse crisis. (See past blog on Penn State.) At no point in history should the sexual abuse of children be condoned. So, when a pedophile is a priest and offends, the ONLY fix to that is to say "you aren't working as a priest anymore". Instead, bishops all over the world were complicit in allowing these guys to not only continue to function in their ministries, they just moved them somewhere else WHERE THEY COULD DO THE SAME THING. And assumed no culpability for that. To that, I say "bullshit". Pedophilia is a disease. It should be treated. I pity the men that have that disease, in the same way I pity those who have other psychological disorders. I can't blame them for this. I blame a structure that perpetuated it and never confronted it. And I, personally, need to get past this. I know men who are no longer priests because of this and I know their victims. I know men who are still priests (and some are now deceased, RIP Paul Dudley, one of the finest men I've ever known) who were wrongfully accused. Finally now, it's become a legal issue and not an issue of canon law.
But let's go back a couple paragraphs and look at what religion should REALLY be. It should be a ritualistic expression of an individual's faith celebrated in community. The rituals and the teachings of the religion should reflect the community. OR (and this is a big OR) it should provide the ability of the religion to provide guidance to its adherents as to what they should or should not believe. Sounds Jonestown-like, right? In the final analysis, if a "real" religion doesn't exhibit cult-like features, it really shouldn't be a religion. "Cult" has a negative connotation (thanks James Jones and the Moonies), it shouldn't. A cult is close-knit group of people who are trying to live out their faith as they understand it. And they get together once in a while to share how that's going and celebrate it.
When we're doing it right, that's Church.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
July 4 - What Does it Really Mean?
I will never purport to be an expert on the beginnings of the Revolutionary War, nor will I purport to be an expert on the signers of the Declaration of Independence, nor will I purport to be an expert on what was going through the minds of people in the late 18th century.
Here's what I learned in my formative years... People of the colonies were tired of British rule. They wanted to be able to govern themselves, to have their own way of doing things, and to be responsible for themselves. Pretty noble, I think. And, with the help of the French and the Germans, they went to war for those noble purposes. And the war was won. I guess that's a good thing. Had to do it again a few years later, but the British finally figured out that this very large hunk of land probably wasn't worth governing from London.
And we, as a nation, grew. We expanded to those hunks. I grew up in one of them. And I now live in one of the original hunks. And we prospered and continued to grow. We, as a nation, grew to be one of the greatest superpowers in the world. We went to war several times (the Mexican American war, World War I, World War II, the Korean Conflict, Vietnam, Iraq I, Iraq II, Afghanistan, and probably a few others that I can't remember) and we've done pretty well in those. And. over the years, we've become a superpower.
Superpowers (I'm not going to say dynasty, because 237 years just can't constitute that) come and they go. Superpowers usually advocate for a way of life. The Soviet Union advocated marxist communism, China advocates a variant of that, Saudi Arabia (make no mistake, they're a superpower) advocates an islamic government.
As I look around the world, it appears as though our country is on a path to support democracy. Again, I guess that's noble. Democracy is a good thing, and it's worked pretty well in the diversity that is our nation. And we believe that democracy is something that should be supported worldwide. That's where we've got it wrong, my friends.
What we should be advocates for is something more basic than a form of government.
We should be advocates for peace. "We don't negotiate with terrorists" is a common policy. I just heard on the news "we need to pave the way for democracy". We hear it every single day, where this country is in the face of other countries advocating democracy while those countries are warring internally and we are telling them they must be democratic. Stop it. Just stop it.
평화. That's the Korean word for peace. Pyeonghwa. When we're talking to countries about what's going on and what we want, that's what we should want. Not democracy, not to be an ally, not to create a global economy where they can be a part. PEACE. That's what we should want for them.
And we shouldn't be afraid to talk about how we're not peaceful. We shouldn't be afraid to talk about how we spy on our own people. We shouldn't be afraid to talk about basic human rights and how we struggle with providing them.
Think, for just a few minutes, about how the conversations around and about our foreign policy would change if we advocated for peace and not democracy. [Here is your thinking part]
The funny thing about peace is that it's something we have to seek. It won't find us. And that's where this blog starts to end. We can't advocate for peace if we don't seek it ourselves.
I tattooed 평화 on my left arm to remind me that I need to always seek it.
Here's what I learned in my formative years... People of the colonies were tired of British rule. They wanted to be able to govern themselves, to have their own way of doing things, and to be responsible for themselves. Pretty noble, I think. And, with the help of the French and the Germans, they went to war for those noble purposes. And the war was won. I guess that's a good thing. Had to do it again a few years later, but the British finally figured out that this very large hunk of land probably wasn't worth governing from London.
And we, as a nation, grew. We expanded to those hunks. I grew up in one of them. And I now live in one of the original hunks. And we prospered and continued to grow. We, as a nation, grew to be one of the greatest superpowers in the world. We went to war several times (the Mexican American war, World War I, World War II, the Korean Conflict, Vietnam, Iraq I, Iraq II, Afghanistan, and probably a few others that I can't remember) and we've done pretty well in those. And. over the years, we've become a superpower.
Superpowers (I'm not going to say dynasty, because 237 years just can't constitute that) come and they go. Superpowers usually advocate for a way of life. The Soviet Union advocated marxist communism, China advocates a variant of that, Saudi Arabia (make no mistake, they're a superpower) advocates an islamic government.
As I look around the world, it appears as though our country is on a path to support democracy. Again, I guess that's noble. Democracy is a good thing, and it's worked pretty well in the diversity that is our nation. And we believe that democracy is something that should be supported worldwide. That's where we've got it wrong, my friends.
What we should be advocates for is something more basic than a form of government.
We should be advocates for peace. "We don't negotiate with terrorists" is a common policy. I just heard on the news "we need to pave the way for democracy". We hear it every single day, where this country is in the face of other countries advocating democracy while those countries are warring internally and we are telling them they must be democratic. Stop it. Just stop it.
평화. That's the Korean word for peace. Pyeonghwa. When we're talking to countries about what's going on and what we want, that's what we should want. Not democracy, not to be an ally, not to create a global economy where they can be a part. PEACE. That's what we should want for them.
And we shouldn't be afraid to talk about how we're not peaceful. We shouldn't be afraid to talk about how we spy on our own people. We shouldn't be afraid to talk about basic human rights and how we struggle with providing them.
Think, for just a few minutes, about how the conversations around and about our foreign policy would change if we advocated for peace and not democracy. [Here is your thinking part]
The funny thing about peace is that it's something we have to seek. It won't find us. And that's where this blog starts to end. We can't advocate for peace if we don't seek it ourselves.
I tattooed 평화 on my left arm to remind me that I need to always seek it.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Easter 2013
As I begin this blog with some crying and trying real hard to figure out what Easter means, I know some things...
I know that Jesus rose from the dead. I feel it. I can't explain it. I'm sorry that I can't. There's no evidence of it, and he may not have even risen from the dead. But he's alive. Just like my father and my mother (Happy Birthday, Mom!) and Pappy and Gram and Grandma Schultz and Uncle James and... they're all alive. And my brother or sister, the one I never knew about. They're all here tonight. And I'm celebrating Easter with all of them!
Because I am learning that Easter isn't about Jesus. It's about us. It's about me and it's about you. It's about all of us learning that there are times that we get put into the grave. We get put there, sometimes because of our own choosing (in my case), sometimes not because we choose it. Easter is about coming out of the grave. And I can't come out of the grave right now, and that's very sad for me. Which would explain why I'm blogging and not attending a really cool Easter Vigil somewhere in New York City.
The grave sucks. My daughter asked if she could come to New York and spend Easter with me, I refused. She was on spring break from school (where she is the MOST AWESOME student in the college she is attending) and the MOST CREATIVE person I've ever known (sorry Maggie, the pelican painting is amazing, but your Katniss dress is a VERY close #2). I regret so much that I missed, mainly because I am still in my grave. I missed seeing what was going on with my kids. Their resentment is completely understood.
I missed a chemical dependency or two (or maybe three). I missed a lot of things in their lives that 'normal' parents would not have missed. I missed them because I was 'too busy' and 'providing'. The reality was I was blind to what my children needed. And that blindness, that total disregard for who my children were becoming, effects us to this day. I know three of the most amazing people on this planet. My oldest daughter is one of the most creative costumers in the world. My middle daughter has created some of the most beautiful pieces of art that I've seen in a long time. My son is one of the most creative comics and teachers that I've ever come in contact with. And I don't tell them that enough. And it's good that I don't need to, they know it. But it would be good if I could tell them.
I hope their graves are not as deep as mine. I don't think they are, and I hope they aren't. I dug mine. I dug it when I took the job I have. I dug it when I moved to New York. It just gets deeper as I realize that, on Easter, my highlight will be cleaning my apartment and writing a technical specification for a demonstration. I tried to make friends here. I have some. But none that care enough about me to make sure that my Easter is spent around people who care about me. They have their own people who they need to make sure are OK on this feast. So I am spending Easter alone. Heck, even Jesus didn't do that!
My grave is there, the rock rolled over, the cloths draped over me. All of the regrets, all of the pain, all of the bad decisions I've made, all of the wrong things I've done, they are the cloths. Like Jesus, I am waiting for the Father to reach down and tell me...
ARISE, MY LOVE. THE GRAVE NO LONGER HAS A HOLD ON YOU.
When that day comes, this planet will hear the rejoicing!
I know that Jesus rose from the dead. I feel it. I can't explain it. I'm sorry that I can't. There's no evidence of it, and he may not have even risen from the dead. But he's alive. Just like my father and my mother (Happy Birthday, Mom!) and Pappy and Gram and Grandma Schultz and Uncle James and... they're all alive. And my brother or sister, the one I never knew about. They're all here tonight. And I'm celebrating Easter with all of them!
Because I am learning that Easter isn't about Jesus. It's about us. It's about me and it's about you. It's about all of us learning that there are times that we get put into the grave. We get put there, sometimes because of our own choosing (in my case), sometimes not because we choose it. Easter is about coming out of the grave. And I can't come out of the grave right now, and that's very sad for me. Which would explain why I'm blogging and not attending a really cool Easter Vigil somewhere in New York City.
The grave sucks. My daughter asked if she could come to New York and spend Easter with me, I refused. She was on spring break from school (where she is the MOST AWESOME student in the college she is attending) and the MOST CREATIVE person I've ever known (sorry Maggie, the pelican painting is amazing, but your Katniss dress is a VERY close #2). I regret so much that I missed, mainly because I am still in my grave. I missed seeing what was going on with my kids. Their resentment is completely understood.
I missed a chemical dependency or two (or maybe three). I missed a lot of things in their lives that 'normal' parents would not have missed. I missed them because I was 'too busy' and 'providing'. The reality was I was blind to what my children needed. And that blindness, that total disregard for who my children were becoming, effects us to this day. I know three of the most amazing people on this planet. My oldest daughter is one of the most creative costumers in the world. My middle daughter has created some of the most beautiful pieces of art that I've seen in a long time. My son is one of the most creative comics and teachers that I've ever come in contact with. And I don't tell them that enough. And it's good that I don't need to, they know it. But it would be good if I could tell them.
I hope their graves are not as deep as mine. I don't think they are, and I hope they aren't. I dug mine. I dug it when I took the job I have. I dug it when I moved to New York. It just gets deeper as I realize that, on Easter, my highlight will be cleaning my apartment and writing a technical specification for a demonstration. I tried to make friends here. I have some. But none that care enough about me to make sure that my Easter is spent around people who care about me. They have their own people who they need to make sure are OK on this feast. So I am spending Easter alone. Heck, even Jesus didn't do that!
My grave is there, the rock rolled over, the cloths draped over me. All of the regrets, all of the pain, all of the bad decisions I've made, all of the wrong things I've done, they are the cloths. Like Jesus, I am waiting for the Father to reach down and tell me...
ARISE, MY LOVE. THE GRAVE NO LONGER HAS A HOLD ON YOU.
When that day comes, this planet will hear the rejoicing!
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