The power of questioning power

Most things come full circle ... well, they do if you allow them enough time to take their course. The question of power and the question of questioning power is one of those things.

When you get right down to it, "power" -- whatever it is, whoever is exercising it, in which form it comes or in which systems it disguises itself -- has one, and only one, "tool": fear. Power is powerful, because you are afraid. It is that simple.

One of my biggest heros, one of the individuals who walked this earth for whom I have the greatest and utmost respect, used to preface many, many things that he said with the simple words, "Fear not, fear not ..." In modern phraseology: "Don't be afraid ... ". Yes, yes, yes, we have gone through all the trivializations of this simple idea, and so we haven't come to realize just how trivial the idea is. And now, we return, after such a long diversion, to the root of the problem. How can you "speak truth to power", or question, even challenge, authority without real risk of repression? It's quite simple, really: ask questions.

Although I grew up in an age that scholastically lauded the Socratic method, questioning authority was simply something "you just didn't do". It was impolite, cheeky, pushy, cocky, and downright, insulting. Still, there are ways to simply "ask a question" that is none of these. What is more, when asked in the proper way, in the proper tone, at the proper time, a question can, and most often does, appear as a simple quest for knowledge and wisdom from someone who apparently and supposedly "knows". It is one thing to rebuke a claim, an assertion, a statement, but it is quite another to not respond to someone who is early seeking "to know".

Power always has the responsibility to answer a well-meant question, even if it may not want to answer at all. Power cannot simply reject a question, for to do so would expose it for what it really is: power for power's sake. Yet, we can learn from the three-year-old: keep questioning until the questioned can no longer answer, until his/her own power-based logic simply collapses upon itself. And, believe me, it will eventually do just that.

While fear is an extremely powerful tool, if not a weapon, it suffers from a significant, inherent weakness: it cannot stand in the light of Truth. I may not know the "truth", that is certain, but I believe (and Power believes) that Truth can ultimately be found. The way to the truth is questioning: pursuing the path, via the method, of perhaps the greatest philosopher who ever lived, Socrates.

Power knows how to utilize fear to its own advantage. Of that much, I am sure. However, Power is not immune from fear itself. And, if there is anything that Power fears, it is the power of the question ... the simple question. So, never, ever be afraid to ask "the next question", for it is always, without doubt, the most important question to ever be asked.

Question power before it questions you.

Question power

Power can be all-powerful ... well, at least it can be conceived as such. Most folks that I know would rather avoid any association with power, let alone a confrontation with it. As the Germans put it, "offering your forehead to power" (Macht die Stirn bieten), can reduce your height by about twelve inches (30 cm) and your weight by about 11 lbs (5 kg) very, very quickly. That is a tried-and-true method that power employs, but, as we saw, over time, as the shift from the merely physical to the more ethereal has taken place, a shift in "execution" of power has taken place as well.

In most places around the globe, we don't lop off people's heads anymore. Most peoples and nations have come to the realization that the same effect can be achieved with a lot less visual vividness. Sure, you can still imprison folks for long periods of time, knowing full well that "out of sight" (that is, not in the daily press" means "out of mind" (that is, forgotten). Or, you can simply "talk louder". The volume of mainstream media is always higher than anything an individual can offer. Another approach is to discredit the questioner: given enough money, I suppose, everybody's missteps can be found out and exposed, especially in the days of the Internet. What all of these "methods" have in common, however, is fear. You could be charged with a crime, even if you didn't commit one; most people are tried "in the press" before they ever get to trial. Convictions are then merely insurance. The mainstream media, since it is privately controlled, is more interested in profits than truth, so they can afford to make you a case instead of making a case for you, and they will benefit (i.e., profit) from it, in the end. What is more, given the lax security and the reluctance of most "good citizens" to challenge the "status quo", innuendo, even in cyberspace, can literally destroy an individual before s/he has a chance to defend him/herself. I know very few people who would be willing to risk going through any of that for any reason. You don't have to chop off heads to instill fear. At least, not any more.

Still, as long as fear dictates our lives, as long as fear is our primary motivation, whoever or whatever is in power will succeed. It has always been this way, and it will continue to be this way, unless we change. And, I'm pretty sure, that's really far down on the ol' priority list.

It's too bad, really. One doesn't have to start a rebellion, a physical, military, violent, armed revolution to initiate change. The most effective change is never public, it is private. Here's a very simple thought experiment: imagine that you had no fear of anything any more: what would/could you do? Think about it. Because we hang on too many "things" (our house, car, savings account, possessions, you-name-it) we are afraid that someone can or will come and take it away from us. It could be a thief, but it could be the "government". Why the "government" would want it, given that it extracts exorbitant taxes from you, often without you even knowing it is doing so, and it has you regulated, legislated, controlled, and subdued by the mass of legislation you have to live with. You are allowed to "talk a good (maybe even "tough") game", but if they decide you're done, for whatever reason, you're outta here. And that, dear reader, is the price you pay for (alleged) freedom.

And that's why I say, quite simply, question power, before it questions you.

The question of power

Lord Acton, who most of us have never heard of, once said something that just about everyone of us has not only heard, but said: "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely." That's not a direct quotation, but it is a direct expression of the sentiment he wished to express. This is one of those old sayings, those "wise, old" adages, that we let slip from our lips without a second('s) thought, which may be why we don't really get it; that is, really understand what the good Lord was trying to say.

As I confessed last time, questions really got to me. But if there ever was a concept that occasionally rivaled that enthrallment, it would be the notion of "power". Here is another used and abused notion that everybody talks about, that everyone thinks they understand, but that is, without a doubt, one of the most illusive notions that we've ever come up with.

First, we have the concept of "enabling things to function". We need power to drive the steam engine and power to run our computers and keep the lights on. Power is what is talked about when we think of any kind of machine or gadget. We also relate "power" to "authority": those who can tell us what we may or may not do, what is permitted and what is not. And, we also use the concept to describe whoever or whatever can ensure that certain things happen, as in legislative power, or "the power of the pen". OK, in the latter instance there is no ensuring, but potentially a lot of influencing. When it comes to physical power, we have lots of good science to "explain" to us how it works, why and how machines are efficient or why some people can benchpress hundreds of pounds and others can't do a single push-up. When it comes to other kinds of power, though, we're pretty much lost.

Again, Shakespeare's Macbeth is ready at hand: it exemplifies Lord Acton's statement, hundreds of years before Lord Acton expressed it. It indicates that this is not a new problem we are dealing with. In the meantime we know (probably more than we want to) about the "power of the sword", "power of nuclear weapons", the (fire)power of the American military, the "power of the 'almighty dollar'", the (alleged) "power of the press", even the "power of persuasion", and many more. We quickly begin to realize what a complex and intricate concept "power" can be.

All of these phrases show examples, to be sure, but none of them, and certainly not any one of them, defines the notion of "power". Why? Because "power" is always the same and never the same, all at the same time. There was a time when "physical power", in any of its forms -- strength, superior weapons -- played the dominant role. There was a time when "political power", in any of its forms -- diplomacy, alliances -- was most important. And now, we live in a time, when the "power of perceptions" plays the dominant role. We all still have to deal with the same, old same-old, but it comes in ever-changing guises.

It doesn't amaze me at all that most folks feel powerless in the face of power.

The power of questions

Anyone who knows me knows there is one "confession" I must always make, especially when I meet new people or have the opportunity to work in new groups: I absolutely and unequivocally love questions. I do. I am fascinated by them ... mesmerized sometimes. They stir my imagination and unlock secrets. They are, without a doubt, the most powerful intellectual and analytical tool -- if used properly -- that I have ever had the privilege to use.

These days, I believe that questions are terribly underestimated and their true power has never been properly recognized.

All of this started, of course, when I was going through teacher training at college, oh, so many years ago. In "my day", there was only one, accepted pedagogical (teaching) method: the Socratic method. Lesson plans described a topic, a digestible amount of material, and the way to get the students from wherever they were to wherever the lesson was to take them was to be achieved solely through the use of questions. It was frowned up that the teacher provide any "answers", be it information or -- heaven forbid -- interpretations or declarations. It was up to the teacher to guide the students to discover knowledge for him or herself, solely through the use of appropriate questioning techniques. This is considered more than old-fashioned these days, but, truth be told, this was a very old method when I became exposed to it. If you want to see brilliant examples of how it works, I recommend reading Plato. His writings are nothing other than Socratic dialogs (for Socrates always plays the main role), and they are every bit as informative and didactic today as they were at the time they were written. Some things simply refuse to change. (And anything that does, and anything that stands the test of time like questions do, deserve a second, third, or even an infinite number of looks).

And when did this fall out of favor as a teaching method? I don't know. I suspect, however, that it was about the time that "somebody decided" that the results of standardized tests or the regurgitation of factual knowledge was more important than the ability to think, to explore, to discover, and to search (for the truth). Oh, I'll be the first to admit it: questions can be uncomfortable, as any parent on the planet will tell you. There isn't a parent alive or dead who hasn't been exasperated (positively or negatively) by their 3-year old who will not give their questioning a rest. Once you fork down that "why" path, there is never an end in sight. Nor should there be. What we don't do as parents, or what enough parents don't do, or what most parents do not encourage, is that they continue asking those questions. If there is one ability in our children that we should never, ever discourage, it's the asking of questions. I firmly believe that the world would not be in the shape it is, that we would not be confronted with all the challenges that we have to deal with, if we had been encouraged as children to question more.

To me, it's never really been a priority to just "keep on trucking". No, for me, it's important to "keep on questioning."

Self-awareness and the awareness of others

Anyone who has been slipping in and out of these blogs over the time I've been writing them, and especially anyone who has been following lately will have recognize that this idea, this notion, this concept of "the Other" plays a big role in what I write. If you've noticed, I've done my job. If you haven't, allow me to get a bit more direct.

Think about it: all of us are here in this reality (at least, I hope, all of you who are reading this); we share a common space (here) and a common time (now); we have common feelings, such as being happy, sad, frustrated, relieved, and more; we may speak different languages, but we all communicate (for better or worse); we have different backgrounds and experiences, but we nevertheless can relate to one another because of this (not in spite of this); we all dream and hope and yearn, and we know that other human beings do so as well. As I never tire of saying, we have much more in common than whatever it is that makes us different.

One of the real advantages (and unfortunately, obligating characteristics) we have as human beings is that we know, are aware of, recognize, and (often begrudgingly) acknowledge that there are other creatures in this reality, in this here and now (and for the more advanced, that then and there) who are very much like ourselves. In other words, we are aware of ourselves (I keep getting the feeling that there is a "me" in "my head" who experiences things) and we are aware of others who are like ourselves (that is, "you's" and, in general "others", who experience similar things as well). We take this all for granted, I know, but if you stop and reflect upon it, this is quite an amazing, if not mysterious, state of affairs. For as much as we love our pets (as we should), they're not doing this. For as much as we are stunned by the capabilities of whales and dolphins and chimpanzees and bonobos, they aren't doing this either. They're close, I'll give you that, but they are not quite there (perhaps, yet, but that remains to be seen). Without going over the top, I have to admit, that there is something about us humans that makes us different (not necessarily better ... and Lord knows, judged by our behavior, not at all better) than our animal cousins.

The simple fact is we are capable of much different things than they are, and, what is also worth noting, those things of which we are capable, can have a far greater impact on others, our environment, on the world in general than any of our cousins can generate. In other words, knowing about, being aware of the consequences, or impact, of our thoughts and our actions, in simplest terms, obligates us to be more conscious of whatever it is we are doing. This is, I admit, an extremely difficult idea to grasp. It is, nevertheless, more important than ever.

We don't have to go so far as to believe that we are the pinnacle of creation or the end-purpose of whatever. What we do have to realize is that since we are capable of so much, our responsibility for what we do is just as great. Just because we can doesn't mean we should. Instead, it means we should be careful (of what we do).

And that's a wrap

Well, tomorrow night -- at midnight -- things are going to change. It is then our turn to make a lot of noise bringing in our own new year. Yes, everybody gets to have one, and so do we. However, as is part of our own particular tradition, a moment's reflection on what has transpired over the last 360 or so days is most definitely in order.

2013 was a good year for bad reasons, but a bad year for the right bad reasons. We survived the year without a major international war; we had no serious economic disasters; there were no more than usual environmental catastrophes; and there were no large-scale armed revolutions. My question is why we should only be happy about what didn't happen. It seems like second-hand happiness. On the down side, we haven't resolved any of the ongoing armed international conflicts (Iraq, Afghanistan, South Sudan, the list goes on); we know we're heading for another economic disaster because jobs aren't forthcoming and benefits are being cut, and the banks are acting every bit as recklessly as they were back in 2007, when nobody saw anything coming; though no Gulf-of-Mexico class oil spills, the Keystone Pipeline is producing daily disasters, and fracking has got it down to hourly ones, and the disease is spreading on this side of the Atlantic as well; and the only real armed-violence-at-home is coming from the government(s) to the people.

Yes, pretty much a pretty normal year. And I suppose that's why I'm particularly glad to leave this one behind. It wasn't one of those years that will stick out in memory for all its exciting and emotional events. On our shared-reality plane, it was just another year. But, maybe, it shouldn't have been ...

We all know that the absence of disaster does not mean things are great. We know that we are faced with a large number of very serious issues, including the use of armed aggression at home or abroad, the survival of the planet, the fate of the 99%, inequality of all flavors, persecution, racism, terrorism, or the fear of simply getting seriously ill. What did any of us do about any of these things this year? Yes, I'm as guilty as anyone when it comes to such things.

Still, I think that both you and I know that we really can't afford to keep going on like this. We may not have had the disasters, but things didn't really get any better last year either. It just seems to me that if things are going to get better at all, in any way, then we really can't afford to just sit around and wait for someone else to make the first move. We all know that some kind of change is needed, and I am pretty sure that we all don't agree completely on what precisely and how or (more importantly, how soon. As I have been saying all along, though, talk always precedes action, and I don't hear us talking yet.

TPTB are being as loud and obnoxious as ever, but there's not a lot to drown out. Too many of us just keep our thoughts to ourselves, but we need to start expressing them and, most important of all, discussing them. Our lives are being dominated but the anonymous, removed, global, corporate Leviathan, but it need not be so. A beast that cannot be fought can be starved, and we take sustenance from that beast when we start sharing what we have with one another. Your house, your block, your neighborhood, your community ... is where we all need to start.

And, 2014 is as good a time as any to start as well. We missed our chance last year, so let's not miss it this time around. Starve the beast. Start sharing.

Just to set the record straight

In all that I've posted lately, I really hope you haven't come to the conclusion that Christmas doesn't matter. It does, probably more than ever. This time of year has traditionally been one of celebration and introspection, so while you're busy doing the former, you shouldn't forget about the latter.

To put it most directly: it doesn't matter so much why you do something, what matters is what the results of those actions are.

People of many different persuasions, cultures and backgrounds have found comfort, strength, and hope in what Jesus said, even if they never packed it all together into a single whole. I've always been inspired, I must say, by his insight, courage, and unflinching support for the underdog. If you ever get a chance to get your hands on one of those red-letter editions of the New Testament, I heartily suggest you sit down and just read the parts in red and nothing else. It won't take you long. We're looking at fewer than 2000 verses, or around half the total text. I can assure you, though, it is worth the effort. When you get rid of all the context, the confusion, the potential ideology or theology, you are just left with some very simple ideas that are, well, profoundly moving. And that's what has moved so many people in the past and continue moving people today.

Love whoever needs you, or your help, as you love yourself; don't do to others what you wouldn't done to you; feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, heal the sick and visit those who are incarcerated. I mean, just how complicated is that? And regardless of what you may personally derive from such actions (though those of you who have ever tried it know as well as I do that such things make you feel a whole lot better about yourself), there's not a bit of anything there that isn't just reasonable, if not downright common-sensical. The question that begs itself, of course, why so few people actually do this?

The holiday we just celebrated was -- originally -- in honor of the guy who advocated acting that particular way. We've come a long way from that, to be sure. You don't have to believe that guy was God, God's Son, the Saviour, the Messiah, or whatever else you want to call him. You don't even have to believe that the guy ever existed. It just so happens that in the greatest part of what we know as Western Civilization, the stories surrounding this guy play a central role in our societies, economies, and political structures. The principles which that guy advocates are those that would lead to a more social, humane, and equitable world, a world of less suffering, a world in which greed, violence, and hatred would be disdained, not revered, a world actually worth living in, a world that would not be suffering the wanton environmental destruction that ours is.

The people who follow that guy's suggestions, for whatever reason (for you will note that there is never a demand for having a particular motivation to act in such ways), have, at least in my mind, the right to be thought of as and to call themselves Christian. Whether they do or not, is completely up to them; there's no obligation. The folks who don't would do well to not draw such attention to themselves, especially if they're claiming to be Christian. It's not what you say that makes the difference, it's what you do. So, if you want to talk the talk, walk the walk, or just zip your lip and let the rest of us try to salvage what's left of the world.

It's time

Well, here we are. Whether we like it or not, we've come to the day that, regardless of belief, is the reason that there's any kind of celebration at all here in the Western World. Irrespective of gender, race or creed, this evening is the day we have set aside to celebrate the birth of the Christ Child.

It's odd in a way. Be we believers or not, the celebration is here. Oh sure, we can rationalize it all off to some pagan festival that we've long forgotten, or we can ignore everything below the surface and simply join in the fun. It doesn't matter (and how often have I said that in the past month?). Here we are and I am only suggesting that it would do us all good to stop and ask ourselves why.

In my own reflections, I'm forced, by virtue of time and place of birth (both of which were totally under my control, right?), to think about why we even have a holiday now and what it is we're supposed to be celebrating.

The short answer is we live in a(n) (alleged) Christian culture, and today, according to tradition, the saviour of humankind was born. In a stall in Bethlehem, an unmarried virgin gave birth to a baby boy, cared for and protected by her estranged husband. This humble situation was the beginning of the most powerful movement that has ever swept over humanity. Well, that's the story, at any rate ... granted, in very condensed form. For some, this baby is the Messiah; that is, the one whom God sent to redeem humankind. For others, this baby was to become a prophet who would pave the way for God's true prophet. For still others, the baby was simply a troublemaker. For the rest, well, they didn't care.

The question poses itself, naturally, who's right? The answer, whether you like it or not, it everybody ... and nobody. Yes, the real answer is the one we've heard about so much recently: it doesn't matter.

You see, while there may be a number of ways to look at this, from the tradition in which we Westerners were born, there are two ways that push themselves into the foreground. That is, when you get right down to it, there are two "Christianities" out there, regardless of what we think or what we see. There is what all the Churches (Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, Fundamental, Pentecostal) "believe", and there is whatever it is that we have handed down to us as what the baby (later, a grown man), Jesus, had to say. They are, regardless of what anyone tells you, two very different things. The former ... the so-called "party line" -- is actually what the disciple Paul tells us (all the books of the New Testament between the Gospels and the Apocalypse); the latter is what Jesus said -- and more importantly, did -- as reported in the Gospels. You can twist and turn and force it anyway you like, but the two are, in truth, incompatible with each other.

At bottom then, this time of year is also a time of choice. If we choose to celebrate the holiday, we must choose whether we believe in what Jesus said and did, what Paul and his followers say is the only way to go, or we just want an excuse to party. The choice is yours.

Zeroing in

Let's face it. There is nothing radical or extremist about anything I have had to say recently. At the beginning of the season, I did intimate that what I had to say was not the "party line", but it should be clear by now that there may not even be such a thing. We all believe in something (or not) and we all want only the best for ourselves and those around us. So, I ask you, why is the world so screwed up? Really, none of you are ready to witness for the perfection of reality. Where are we going wrong?

You would be mistaken if you thought I knew. You would be correct, however, is guessing that I might have at least a suspicion. And here it is, a simply as I can state it: most of us are simply hypocrites. Sound harsh? Maybe it is, but I do believe it is accurate. Why am I so sure? Let me tell you.

How many of us like to make an objective and neutral impression, but are, in reality, pushing our own agenda? How many of us declare our tolerance but still have reservations about others who are not like us, including, but not restricted to, people of color, those of a different sexual persuasion or declaration? How many of us tell others that some of our best friends are , but never have them in our homes? How many of us declare our love of God or Jesus, yet blame welfare recipients for being lazy takers? How many of us declare our love of the environment yet drive to the corner store and advocate "dirty" energy? How many of us deny climate warming and simply go on consuming as before? How many of us believe we have worked hard, and therefore have earned, what we have, but refuse to admit how much circumstance and luck have played in our good fortune? How many of us think our country/culture got it right and why do all those others not realize that they haven't? How many of us apply the same measure to big companies and banks that we apply to other individuals not so different from ourselves? How many think responsibility is an important characteristic but don't think that corporations or countries should be held to the same standard? How many of us believe that violence is no solution but still possess firearms and use language that inflicts injury on others? How many of us think others are simply abnormal, because everyone knows what normal is? How many of us believe we are saved and are simply sorry that everyone who isn't simply has to go to hell?

Well, if you ask me, the answer in every case is the same: too many. I really don't know where any of us get off thinking we know what's what and why things are that way. I don't know how any of us can believe we've got that "wisdom thing" all wrapped up. I don't know how good, caring, loving individuals can hate, but you know and I know that we are not few. I don't know how we can realize that we're anything but perfect, yet expect perfection in others. I can't even begin to imagine what's going on in the heads of people who are in mosque/temple/church or elsewhere at least one day a week can act the rest of the week as if they didn't know what was said at the last service. I don't know how most of us can look at ourselves in the mirror in the morning considering how often on any given day we were one way with those we like and who are near to us and so very, very different with those we don't or aren't close to.

Yes, dear reader, we humans are anything but consistent. Which is fine as far as it goes. There is something to-be-expected about it. But what really makes us human, in the end, is that we can transcend what's only expected.

Beating around the (burning) bush

It's not what you say, but how you say it. It's not what you hear, but how you hear it. It's not what you read, but how you read it. Just a couple of simple axioms to start your day.

There are a lot of things we haven't figured out yet. There are a lot of things we just don't know; there are fewer things we know for sure. There are a lot of things we may never figure out. That's just how it is, and that's OK.

It seems to me that there are too many people who miss the point (whatever the point may be in the end) simply because they are all wrapped up in non-essential details. These might be the facts of science, the wording in a given Holy Book, or just some belief we have come to accept (either consciously or unconsciously). For those of you missing the point -- either consciously or unconsciously -- it's OK, you're in good company: most of us are with you.

As I have said, this time of year should be one of joy, hope, peace and light. Why? Because a lot of folks for a lot of time in our history have thought it isn't a bad idea, and even a minimum of reflection on that and what should be will tell you it's not a bad idea at all. Any time we can bring more joy, hope, peace and light into our lives and into the lives of those around us are, well, simply good times, memorable times, happy times. And there is not a human being on this planet who doesn't share that sentiment.

The leading cause of strife/tension/conflict/ is really due to misunderstanding or, more precisely, miscommunication. Different cultures and different languages use different images and metaphors and allusions to get their points across, and we don't always get what the speaker or writer is saying simply because we attach different values to pictures and metaphors they are using. The wonder of communication is not that we communicate, it is that we can communicate at all.

The same things can be said in many different ways. If we always simply listen with our own ears or read with our own eyes, chances are good that we're going to miss something important or just miss something period. We have to recognize that we may not understand; we must be aware that we probably will misunderstand; we must be patient with the speaker/writer for they are under extreme pressure to get it right (and probably won't); and we must suspend our own disbelief when we encounter something that doesn't make immediate sense to us. This is no mean task. This is anything but easy. This is the hardest thing we will ever have to do. And, everybody does it in their own way, whether they like it or not, whether they know it or not.

I happen to know -- and I believe it is good that you know -- that most of the images and metaphors I use come from what Christians call the Bible. The first part of that book, of course, is what the Jews call their Tanakh, and it is that same part that the Moslems hold sacred. Why? Because that is the primary source of pictures and metaphors in the culture in which I was raised and still live. In other words, to me, they are the most natural and familiar images I have at my disposal. They are, as well, the most natural and familiar images that most Western writers have at their disposal as well.

Does this mean they are the best images to use? No. They are simply the ones we can use most easily. And they are those images that will most likely be most familiar to most of those who hear or read what we have to say.

I must add, however, that this is an increasingly challenging task. Too many are becoming too unaware of too many things. My suspicion is that this does not bode well for us as a culture. I thought I would just throw that in.

The right to be wrong

Don't get me wrong: I've not been trying to say that anyone has their head where it does not belong nor that they are simply ignorant. All I'm saying is that their beliefs, in the end, are not on as firm a foundation as they would like. Given that this is the case, it would behoove them, I believe, to tone it down a little and not be so vociferous in telling others they are full of whatever.

And, don't get me wrong: this is supposed to be a happy time of year, so the last thing that I'm trying to do is sow the seed of discord. I'm merely pointing out that there are too many people who can find too many reasons to subvert making this a happy time of year. Me? I'm all for live-and-let-live. Really. It doesn't matter even a little bit what you believe or don't believe, or why. The only thing that matters -- that can matter -- to me is how you act in this world. To be perfectly honest, nothing else matters to me at all.

If you believe it is right to do good, help others, be non-violent and who knows what else because some little green creatures told you in a dream to act that way, then I've got no problem with that. If you believe it is right to heal the sick, free the oppressed, feed the hungry because your Holy Book tells you to act that way, then I've got no problem with that. If you believe it is right to succor the suffering, fight injustice and visit prisoners because it just seems like the right thing to do, then I've got no problem with that. If you believe it is right to not insult others, to show a bit of compassion for the less fortunate and to try to be happy as much as possible your favorite movie star said it would be a nice way to act, then I've got no problem with that either.

The long and short of it is: the motive, the motivation, the reason for your particular belief isn't as important as whether or not you act upon and in accordance with that belief.

If you believe that you should look after you and yourself first, or exercise violence on others; if you have the right disparage the sick, infirm, suffering, or hungry; if you believe you have the right to look down upon the less fortunate or oppress them, or if you believe you have the right to blame the victims of circumstance for their plight, well, I do have a problem with that, and I don't care what your reason is: little green creatures, Holy Book, or favorite person, or any other "reason".

My point is this: the "reason", the motivation, the impetus, the stimulus for what you do doesn't matter at all. What matters is what you do. How you act, regardless of what you believe or why, is really all that matters in the end. If the why is more important than the what in this case, then I can only say that you need to re-evaluate your priorities.

What you believe may (or may not) be "wrong", but it doesn't matter as long as what you do (or avoid doing) is "right".

The right to be right

When we take a look at what we may call the "religious landscape" of the world today, a couple of things become fairly obvious fairly quickly. As a quick review:

• There are about half-a-dozen, so-called world religions: Shinto, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism and Christianity.
• There are more other "faiths" than can be counted: ranging from remote, tribal, probably never-seen-before systems to "alternative religions", like Wicca and its variations, to long-standing traditional ones like Baha'i and Taoism to far-out ones, like the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
• Even non-believers believe in something: atheists are simply those who don't believe in "God", but that doesn't mean they don't believe in anything, even if it is "only" science, for example.
• Of all known religious/belief systems, to my knowledge, there are only three which are exclusive (that is, it's-our-way-or-the-highway, we're-right-and-everybody-else-is-wrong/deluded), namely Islam, Christianity (in most, if not all its major flavors), and Atheism. (I know, for some of you that last one was a bit of a surprise.)

If you've ever taken the time to talk to other believers, you quickly realize that most of them (a) don't really want to talk about details, (b) are more than willing to let you believe whatever it is you do (or don't) believe, and (c) really aren't sure why you're asking the question about what they believe in the first place. With the "exclusionists", as I like to call them, the situation is reversed. They are more than willing to beat you over the head with the details, are quick to tell you how wrong you are in whatever it is that you believe, and finally glad that they found someone to brain-dump on. That's always struck me as odd.

So, here's my question: why do the exclusionists think (believe) they've got it right and everyone else has got it wrong?

Well, for the first two, the exclusionary religions, it's easy: their Holy Book tells them they are right and everyone else is wrong. At least that's what they'll tell you. For the last group, the absolute-non-believers, they'll tell you it's because there is no empirical evidence for anything you believe; that is, no proof, so you must be wrong.

The position of the first two is built on the fallacy of circular argumentation: the Book says so, therefore it is so, because the Book says so. The latter is based only on an assumption, namely if you can't access it through our five sense, it can't exist.

In other words, the claim to exclusivity is based on nothing that can be objectively and unequivocally verified in the end. Makes it all a bit shaky, don't you think?

A word to the unwise

If you've been following the last few posts, it should be slowly dawning on you that there is a bit of method to my madness. Legends, fairy tales, and myths are not acts of deception, they are reminders of what might be good to take notice of should we want to live better lives. All of us, regardless of our true convictions, play along with this. Let's face it, not only the Christians -- of all flavors, from Catholic to Orthodox to Fundamentalists -- are well into the Christmas Season, and even our other-believing friends -- the Atheists -- are getting festive, too. Truth be told, there are even some of other faiths who are going to put up a tree or have a special meal or exchange gifts because, well, that's what everyone else is doing, so why not join in the fun? Right. When we get into the spirit of celebration, we all feel better. And that's how it should be.

Now, for those of you out there who think there's a War on Christmas or that Christians are trying to shove their religion down your throat ... get over yourselves. Either breathe deeply into and out of a paper bag or take extra doses of your chill-out pills or simply partake a bit more of your favorite intoxicants. I don't care. Just be quiet and let the rest of us have our fun. You guys are downers, bummers, kill-joys or whatever else we can think of to accurately characterize who you are. Christmas and the Christmas Season (and the Hanukah Season for our Jewish friends) is about feeling good, feeling loved, caring and sharing.

As for me, I was born and raised (as I mentioned a couple of posts ago) in a Christian environment. Why? Because I was born there by the luck of the draw. I had as little say in where I was born as anyone else. This was part of the culture in which I was raised, and I understand, fairly well I think, how it functions. Over the years, I have learned that other peoples in other cultures have different (but often very similar) reasons for celebrating when they do, and I'm more than happy to join them in theirs. And they are, at least to me, more than welcome to share in mine. Where's the problem? Right. There is none, so don't make one out of any of it.

When someone greets me with a "Happy Holidays" or a "Happy Hanukah" or a "Merry Christmas", my first thought is, "Well, there's someone who's into the spirit of the season." That makes me happier, my day brighter, my burden lighter, and it encourages me to simply pass it on.

If you don't hear what you think you should be hearing, or if you suspect that Western Culture as we know it is about to collapse, or if you have the urge to set those jerks straight, or if you believe that the end of the world is probably near ... well, you probably need more help than all the rest of us can give you.

Lots of cultures throughout history have organized celebrations of sharing, hope, love, and light at this time of year. So, why not do something "traditional" for a change: get into the Spirit of the Season, and leave the mundane to itself. It will do you a world of good.

Do you believe in St. Nick?

It is really by chance that the topic of beliefs and faith should be on tap today. In some parts of the world (for example, the one in which I happen to live), today is St. Nicklaus Day. Ironically, it is everywhere there are Christians, even if most of the faith may not know it, however, in most places, it's not celebrated in any way. Last night, children put their shoes in front of the door, hoping he'd stop by and leave them some sweets, an orange or maybe even a small present. Well, only if they were good this year, of course; otherwise, it could be they end up with a lump of coal. My American friends should recognize elements that have been taken over and incorporated into our own Santa Claus. We well oh-so-enlightened moderns know there is neither St. Nick nor Santa Claus, but we still act in ways as if he did.

Even non-believing parents and certainly enlightened ones will still see that something gets in the shoes. Why? Well, it makes the kids happy. And if the kids are happy, well, chances are good that the parents are going to feel better, and maybe even the grandparents got into the act as well. For those enlightened souls who rob their children of all that magic and simply slam the chocolate bar down on the table will probably pass the day less satisfied. And I have to ask myself whether that is an appropriate price to pay for sacrificing a simple belief. No, I don't what to hear about how it's all a lie, how we are deceiving our children who need to be able to face the facts of life in determined and decisive ways. You should grow up before you expect your children to.

There really was a Nicklaus, who was later canonized, and his miracle had to do with seeing that children in need got help and even saving a few. Around this factual event, which is so obscured in the shadows of history, a number of stories grew, some of which became so firmly established that we understand them as legends. Legends, like fairy tales and any number of other fictional accounts, serve an important purpose, however: they remind us of what should be good and beneficial in life in spite of all the hardships and stumbling blocks we encounter. They are, by nature, not there to deceive us, but to give us a (or perhaps even the flimsiest of) reason(s) to make the world just a little bit better, even if only for a short while. I really don't see what's wrong with that. When we do these little things, we and everyone around us is just a little happier, a little more content, and feels just a little more loved than before. Again, I don't know what's wrong with that.

You see, it doesn't really matter whether there ever was a St. Nicklaus or not. It doesn't really matter whether he did any of the things it is claimed he did. It doesn't matter whether we believe in the stories or not. All that matters, in the end, is that we can be reminded to be better people and spread a little joy instead of grief. If we believe that acting so is a good thing (and I'm pretty sure most of you would agree), then that is why we should. It's really that simple.

What's what

We are on uncertain ground, to be sure. There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to decide what they believe. This is a good thing, even if it is a difficult thing to accomplish.

At the heart of the matter is "God". Yes, it's that simple. Does "God" exist or not? Atheists, if they're worth their salt, say "no". Many others (and here I'm speaking in broadest terms) say "yes" (e.g., Jews, Christians, Moslems, and others). And here, two interesting questions arise: (1) Do those who believe in "God" agree who/what "God" is? and (2) Do those who don't believe in "God" agree on who/what "God" isn't? In both cases, the answer is "no".

Time for some clarification. First the so-called "non-believers", the atheists. Let's face it, just because you don't believe in "God" doesn't mean that all atheists "believe" in the same thing. In other words, atheists reject a whole array of different beliefs. I don't think this is really all that problematic. For most atheists, "God", I would think, is some kind of omniscient, omnipotent, Charleton-Heston-kind of being, who damns whom he wishes and saves whom he wants without any really recognizable system. What is more, they have trouble recognizing or acknowledging that this "God" is the original cause of everything that is. For them, chance is a sufficient explanation of what we see and experience of the universe, and science can very well define and describe all that we experience as reality. I realize that this is a very condensed view of things, but I don't think it's inaccurate. I also think, to be honest, that it is an honest and sincere explanation of "how things are" or "why things are the way they are". To put is most succinctly, it's like LaPlace said to Napoleon: "God is not an hypothesis that I felt in need to invoke."

One can "explain" the universe without recourse to the notion of "God". One can make sense of all that is without postulating that "God exists". I wouldn't argue that for a minute. The question is: Does this prove that God does not exist? And here, the answer is a very simple "no". In fact, that which we know has, at least in this case, absolutely nothing to do with what we may or may not believe and what may be beyond what we think we know. In other words, we still don't know if "God" exists or not. Hans Küng, the pre-eminent German theologian, has argued quite convincingly (in his seminal work, Does God Exist?) that there is no way to prove (or disprove) that "God" exists; it is a matter of faith: we can believe that "God" exists, or we can believe that "God" does not exist. Proof is beyond the issue. It is, in the end, simply a matter of faith, which in my mind is simply a stronger, perhaps more formalized, form of belief.

I, for one, think that Küng is right. It is a matter of what we believe. We can't "prove" it, either empirically or logically. Küng's greatest contribution to the debate, however, is that, in the end, it doesn't really matter. There are some things that are simply beyond "proving". And whatever these things are, they are, in the end, simply matters of faith.

Phrasing it differently, are the atheists "right"? The answer is "no". On the other hand, are those who believe in "God" right? And here, as well, the answer it "no". In other words, there are some things that we just can't know. The question is: Do we need to know them? The answer ... sorry, one possible answer next time.

Just another new year

Yes, tomorrow marks the beginning of another new year. Oh, sure, we've had a plethora of them recently. Fall seems to be good for that sort of thing ... just as spring is in other circles. When a year starts or ends is a pretty arbitrary thing. There are good reasons for any of the choices, and I'm happy to let everyone have their way.

The year that begins tomorrow, however, is the Church Year. It's is, if you will, the beginning of the Christian Year, even if most Christians (at least the ones that I know) have no idea that tomorrow's the day.

Fact is: the "church"; that is, those of the Christian persuasion (except for all those who call themselves "Orthodox"), be they Roman Catholic, Protestant (in any of its various flavors), or adherents of any of a nearly innumerable number of "Christian denominations", have set their New Year's Day as tomorrow: the First Sunday in Advent. Four weeks from now we will celebrate the birth of Jesus (though the high point of the year will be Easter) A new cycle has begun.

Now, I'm sure that quite a few of you are asking yourself why I even care. I mean, what do I, proponent of the positions I hold, everyday guy that many of you know, mundane blogger, politically interested, left-leaning advocate of change have to do with the Church year? Good question. Be forewarned, however: answers are never as interesting at the questions.

The fact is that I was born and raised in a "Christian" environment. My upbringing was very "fundamental", if you know what I mean. I lived most of my youth in a country that expounded "Christian values". I moved to a country that still levies a "church tax" (albeit voluntarily ... and yes, I pay it). In fact, I even spent two years studying for and eventually receiving the authorization to teach religious instruction in German public schools. I spend an inordinate amount of time with my nose stuck in the Bible (i.e., Old and New Testaments), trying very hard to make sense not only of the translations, but also of the original Hebrew and Greek texts ... by choice, I might add. I know about the externalities of the "faith" (e.g., how the Church year runs). So, the question is: am I a Christian? Am I making all of you aware of this (latest) New Year, because it is the "real" way to mark our progression through time?

The (I'm sure) very disappointing) answer is "no".

For those who consider themselves and who call themselves "Christian", I'm not a member of their club. For those who are "other" believers, from religious individuals of all faiths to atheists, I'm I-don't-know-what. And that's fine with me.

And so, given that I'm a stranger in a strange land -- regardless of who is doing the observing -- I thought it might be a good idea to simply sort a few things out. And that will be the subject of our run-up to Christmas or, if you will, the next few blogs.

I hope you stay around. I'm pretty sure that what's to come will be anything but "the party line".

Change of seasons

OK, you know where I'm coming from. For as much as I like Thanksgiving, it's really not about the food, it's about family. I don't know about you, but my family is important to me. Why? Because ever since I really left home (that is, where I was born and grew up), my (acquired) family has been all I've had.

Most of you have never left home. Sure, lots of you have traveled and seen exciting things in exciting places; you've had stimulating experiences in exotic environments, but, at heart, you're still American or German or French or British, and you've probably gone back to somewhere near where you were born or at least in the same country. Me, I'm an expat ... and have probably always have been, even when I was in exile in my home country (14 years in California but was born near Pittsburgh, and "being on another planet", doesn't quite capture the true essence of it all). For me, home isn't where you hang your hat, it's where your heart is, and my heart is always with my family ... and by that, I mean "immediate".

A corollary to this is that being with family means giving thanks. In fact, giving thanks has become one of the most important activities in my life. I'll be the first to admit: I've got it good, maybe even better than a whole lot of others. And I'm thankful for that. I've got a decent job that's halfway interesting; I've been able to see and experience things that others have only dreamed of; I know some people who are - for lack of a better word - unique, one-of-a-kind and irreplaceable; I have, in short, been blessed.

But, we have to ask ourselves what that means? Some of my best friends are atheists, and the word "blessed" doesn't fit into their reality very well. For them, and I agree, I've been "fortunate" or just downright "lucky". We all know, be we atheists or some kind of believers, that my life has been enriched in unfathomable ways. I'm one of those dorks, I suppose, who, given the chance, wouldn't trade a moment of my existence for anything else. I've got more than I bargained for, have received lots more than I deserve, have luscious regrets and the peace of mind of knowing that had I all to do over again, I wouldn't change a single thing. Why? Because I'm religious and I know it's all "God's work"? Because I'm an idiot and don't understand the world? Because I'm unambitious, for there could have certainly been more (whatever that is)? No, because it all is just as it is because that's the way it is and no way else.

Right after Thanksgiving, you see, there is a change of season. For Christians (even if most of them may not know it), the New Church Year begins. That would be the First Sunday in Advent, or for the more mundane, the fourth Sunday before Christmas. That doesn't mean much to most of us anymore. We've forgotten (or have chosen to ignore) when what happens and why. For me, however, these are markers that remind me of what might do me some good if I don't forget.

Does this make me religious? No. Does it make me irreligious? No. Does it make me anything at all? I don't think so.

Being conscious of what's happening is -- at least in my little world -- a good thing. I like to note the passing of time and the recurrence of events as a way of reminding myself where we are. It used to be the norm, but it is now the exception ... which is one of the reasons why I have, at times, simply been referred to as "Edwierdo".