Religion's not the problem, zealotry is

As I said the last time, human beings are neither inherently good nor evil, and the world is in the shape it is because we have allowed it to be as it is. We have a say in how the world is. We don't take our own voice seriously, and more often than not, we believe things to be a certain way, when maybe they're not that way at all.

Our debate on terrorism, to take but one example, has turned into one of religious bigotry, and as is so often the case, those screaming the loudest know least about why they're screaming. We humans like to think we know a lot of things, but in the end, we know very little. We believe much more than we know and when we believe long and hard enough, we make religions out of things when and where we least expect it.

Sometimes it's more than worth the effort to stop believing for a moment, to take a step back and think, but even more importantly, reflect on why you think the world is a particular way. Serious reflection never hurt anybody.

Religion, believe it or not, is a good example, because it is the one subject the world over that you're never supposed to talk about in polite company. Why? Because it is very fundamental to how we understand the world to be, whether we are aware of what we believe or not. There's an old saying, "Feelings tell us what to think." And what we believe most often drives what we feel.

Since I'm going to be using the world "religion" a lot in this post, I think it only fair that you know what I mean when I use the term. Now, you can think what you want about Wikipedia, but given that I'm looking for a fitting description, not an authoritative statement, I think it's perfectly legitimate to draw on it in this case. The first paragraph on the relevant page reads:

Religion is a cultural system of behaviors and practices, world views, sacred texts, holy places, ethics, and societal organization that relate humanity to what an anthropologist has called "an order of existence".[1] Different religions may or may not contain various elements, ranging from the "divine",[2] "sacred things",[3] "faith",[4] a "supernatural being or supernatural beings"[5] or "... some sort of ultimacy and transcendence that will provide norms and power for the rest of life."[6]

The key is that religion is "designed", if you will, to help us understand why things are the way they are and why life is the way it is. The "system" side of it includes behaviors, practices, special texts, and societal organizations, among others, though we can agree that these are probably the most important aspects overall.

The nice thing about having such a comprehensive description is that you can apply it to any number of observed phenomena and ask yourself whether what you're dealing with could be considered, in this case, a religion or not. The results can be quite surprising.

Let's take something that's on a lot of people's minds these days: capitalism. Is it just a economic theory, or has it become more than that? Let's see:

It is certainly a "cultural system" (we love to distinguish us from them in terms of it). There are definite behaviors associated with it, such as reducing discussions to economic terms, making money the basis of all valuation, consumerism; and practices, e.g., speculation, stock-market activity, and marketing/advertising; and world views, for example, there is no such thing as society (cf. Thatcher on this one), or simply, there is no alternative. It has sacred texts: Smith's Wealth of Nations is comparable to the Old Testament; Friedman's Capitalism and Freedom, perhaps the New, if we compare it to Christianity. It has special, particularly revered places like Wall Street, the City (in London), and Frankfurt. It has a notion of divinity (the Almighty Dollar), sacred things (stocks, speculative instruments of all kinds not meant for the masses), and while it is silent on the topic of supernatural beings, it does like to think its principles describe the natural order of things. It most certainly, as attested to by its most ardent devotees, a "sort of ultimacy and transcendence that will provide norms and power for the rest of life". Capitalism has become, for all intents and purposes, a driving basis for all our lives.

Oh sure, there are branches and denominations here as elsewhere: different central banks can be seen analogously to the Papal See or prime archdioceses. Stock exchanges and bank headquarters take on the role of temples and churches, and stock-holder meetings rival the spectacle of old-time big-tent evangelists. I don't think it's all that far-fetched to maintain that capitalism has become a religion for many people, and probably more people than are willing to admit to it. That doesn't change the reality of the situation.

The things believed in are not any more substantial or "real", to use the everyday word to describe them, than anything any of the major religions have to offer. Buddhism has no supreme being and neither does capitalism.

The similarities go on: all major religions have "founders"; that is personages, mostly historically verified, to whom believers trace their roots, even though those individuals themselves are not adherents to the faith (i.e., Moses wasn't a Jew; Christ wasn't a Christian; Mohammed wasn't a Muslim, Buddha wasn't a Buddhist). And they have a variety of special figures (often termed "holy", though the Hebrew root of this word, QDSh, means, more or less, "set apart") who may be considered minor prophets, saints, or mere holy persons, like Smith (whom we mentioned), Ricardo, Malthus, Say, Marx (comparable to Lucifer elsewhere), Hayek, von Mises, and others. These are "authorities" in the ecclesiastical sense, not just in the literal sense, of the word. Depending on the flavor of your own belief they carry more or less authority of course.

I think I've made my point: We can think of capitalism as a religion. It is possible to frame the discussion such that we can expand our religiously based discussion of "terrorism" in a very unexpected direction, and one that would not be all that absurd. But, that's not where I want to go with this, nor is that where I need to go.

Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Capitalism ... in and of themselves, they just are. They are a set of beliefs, worldviews and practices, etc. that attempt to help us make sense of our lives and the world around us. They are -- and here I'll put it in very mundane, secular terms -- explanatory models of reality.

What is so fascinating about thought experiments like this one is that the deeper you delve, the more fascinating it all becomes. As long as I don't come up with the crazy idea that my way of believing and seeing the world is the only valid way of believing and seeing the world, we don't have a problem. All of these ways are seen for what they are: ways of believing and seeing the world, and in that moment, I can not only recognize and acknowledge that other way of believing and seeing, I have the wonderful opportunity to learn from that different perspective.

Unfortunately, that's not how we seem to function as human beings. Once we find a way that makes sense to us, we start thinking that this is the only valid way of seeing things, of understanding things. That step to exclusivity, to "only my way" is what utterly dumbfounds me. The borderline between a believer and a zealot is a very thin one, to be sure, and what I see is an increasing number of zealots. I think we need to be a bit more careful with our beliefs. Granted, someone who benefits -- or who believes they benefit -- from a particular way of seeing will be inclined to favor that view, but the fear that they have that perhaps taking another view would disadvantage them in some way can only be accepted if one plays through the possible scenarios in order to find out if the fear is justified. That, of course, takes time, energy, and effort, and who is really willing to sacrifice much of any of those these days.

It's not that ignoring them and falling back into one's own belief of correctness can't be accomplished without expending lots of time, energy, and effort. It's hard work defending one's views against others. Unless, that is, you happen to align yourself with a large group of other folks who have bought into the same exclusivity that you have. And that's where we are today. And, when push comes to shove -- and that's unfortunately what happens all to often: we start literally pushing and shoving ... then injuring ... then killing -- we pull out the miserable old might-makes-right stand-by, and things simply go downhill.

My point is that what we appear to be doing is driving the Devil out with Beelzebub. I purposely chose this particular approach via religion because it is religion that appears to be doing most of the driving of our thinking, and I think we're leaving a major player out of the game. In the end, we believe. We don't know, we can't prove, but we've been given the ability to think. I'd like to think we'll start using that ability more not less. And that starts when we become more reasonable, not zealous. My example with capitalism was to show that the frameworks and categories that we simply take for granted can be used to find meaningful avenues of discussion and exchange with others.

For the most part I can't help but think that we're all looking for the same things but have chosen very different words to describe them. Maybe the words aren't what really matters. Think about it.

What you believe isn't the problem, but how you believe it is

Recently, I had a bit of a discussion with a couple of folks on Facebook. They were slamming religion in general and, as they thought (erroneously, it turned out) Christianity in particular. I was trying to point out that they were simply ranting about things they knew nothing about, which didn't stop them, but it did get me thinking.

These guys were claiming, in their own way, that "religion" is responsible for the world's ills. This is obviously ludicrous on any number of levels, but ludicrousness never stopped anybody from making fools of themselves. That we have large, multinational corporations and businesses raping the environment, heating up the planet, exploiting and oppressing those too weak and poor to defend themselves seems to have escaped them, as has the blind belief in rapacious capitalism that "justifies" those corporations' actions. The fact that we have national governments (some of which claim to be democratic) which are autocratic, dictatorial and oppressive, which will use any means at their disposal to suppress dissent, curtail freedom and, for all intents and purposes, brainwash and enslave their populations seems to have escaped their attention, too. But, to them, religion's the problem. And I got to thinking that for all the delusion in their arguments, maybe they have something of a point.

The first question we have to ask, of course, is "What is (a) religion?" and our first task here is to come to some kind of consensus as to what we mean when we use the term. In simplest terms, a religion is some kind of cultural system, or set of beliefs, that includes behaviors and practices (many formalized as liturgy and ritual), which are based on mythologies (or highly revered stories) that may or may not be contained in what they consider to be sacred texts, which provide some kind of societal, organizational guidance. I know that's a mouthful, but if you go through there carefully, it becomes a bit clearer why, say, Christianity is generally accepted to be a religion, but why the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster or a periodic Star Wars or Star Trek conference aren't. Some religions try to make clear to us how we got here, almost all try to explain how we should be, and all of them are based on faith; that is, a blind, if not unquestioned belief in certain tenets of the given religion. It is estimated that around 85% of the world's population ascribe to one of the five major, and perhaps 10,000 folk religions; the rest are free agents, if you will, though I would maintain that many of them, particularly those in the West, belong to what I would call quasi-religions, a topic I'll come back to in a moment.

Religions (and I include the quasi-religions here as well) serve two basic functions: they give people hope and in their own ways, they provide their adherents with a sense of belonging. Let's face it, life's tough, and when everybody around you sort of sees the world the way you do, you get the feeling you're not necessarily alone and that somehow, given enough communal effort, things just might get better. What is more, religions, some more clearly than others, provide us some kind of meaning in our lives, whether it is stories about how others overcame adversity, or that there is simply some reason why we're all here in the first place. Also important is the fact that all the major and most of the better-known minor religions have what I like to call a "", some variation of the Golden Rule that admonishes you to, well, just not be an asshole. This particular tenet, of course, is the one that is forgotten and ignored most often. If most people are lucky, they'll apply it to those who belong to their immediate sub-group, but beyond that, well, it starts getting lost.

If we just recognized and understood that much, we'd be a long ways toward reducing the amount of ill in the world, but there are two tendencies that religions have that thwart this: the first is the notion of "exclusivity" and the second is "fundamentalism". Exclusivity -- the idea that my way is the only way -- ruins everything. I don't know how people come up with this, but it's particularly, but not exclusively, prevalent among the so-called Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam). In a way it's related to the second tendency, fundamentalism. By this I mean that there is some tenet, law, rule, belief, article of faith, or whatever that an adherent believes is literally and universally true. It could be that any given fundamentalist has more than one, but there's at least one. It might be the literalism of the Bible (though very few people can read it in its original language), it might be the belief in the Trinity or the divinity of Jesus, it might be the inviolability of the person of the religion's founder, it might be anything really, but it is this one thing, this one belief, this one statement that the "true believer" hangs all his or her faith on. If this one little part turns out to be not "true", everything literally falls apart. Believers will die for this and are too often more than willing to kill others (thereby violating the don't-be-an-asshole clause) if it is challenged seriously in any way. And though I've not done a valid study to find out, I would strongly suspect that the more fundamentalist a believer or group of believers is, the more rabid their defense of their belief's exclusivity. What's so unnerving about these tendencies, however, is that they are accepted on pure, blind faith; they cannot be proven, there is no real evidence to support them ... they are basically assumptions upon which everything else is based.

What I've just said about religions applies, mutatis mutandis, for quasi-religions as well. A quasi-religion is a system of cultural beliefs, just like a religion, but one that is not generally recognized as one. Examples include capitalism and scientific materialism. Both of these belief systems include all the elements we identified in our general definition of "religion" above. They include beliefs, behaviors and practices that provide insight into why we exist and how we should live our lives. And the tendencies just described apply as well. Thatcher, one of the "patron saints" of a particularly aggressive form of fundamentalist capitalism, most often known as neoliberalism, stated flatly that "there is no alternative" (to this economic system of belief). Its fundamentalist tenets include low taxes for the rich and austerity for the poor, both of which are the golden path to economic salvation ... even if there is not a shred of evidence for them; and if you don't want to believe me, as the Chileans, the Argentinians, or the Greeks. Or take the particularly rabid form of scientistic belief that this making itself known: Richard Dawkins, a "holy figure" in this last camp will tell you in no uncertain terms that spirit and consciousness don't even exist, though it is life, an unidentifiable and unquantifiable force, that animates him and his own consciousness that allows him to make his silly claims, even though he'll be one of the first to tell you that this consciousness doesn't exist, it is a mere illusion. These quasi-religions, just like the "real" ones we considered above, are based as well on some fundamental , literal "fact" that turns out upon closer examination to be just an assumption, and their exclusivity is tied very closely to that assumption. The reason they only qualify as quasi-religions is that neither of these two examples includes a don't-be-an-asshole clause. All the worse for us all.

We are all on their earth and are in the same boat. It lies in our nature as human beings to want to know where we come from, why we are here, and where we are going. Most of the world's religions, large or small, try to provide answers to these questions. Their answers cannot be proven nor disproven, but the additional interpretations and claims made by specific adherents and groups of adherents may complicate the matter as they go above and beyond those generally acknowledged as being part of the religion in general. (For example, there are an estimated 2.2 billion Christians in the world; almost 60% of those are Roman Catholics and around 40,000 different "Christian churches" share the remainder among themselves.) What I am advocating is that perhaps we need to be a bit more open for and tolerant of religions. Good and bad has been done in religion's name, but if you are going to condemn something you should at least know what you're talking about and tailor your criticism appropriately. Prejudice is prejudice regardless of whether it is regard to race, religion, creed or whatever. Religion per sé is not the problem, fundamentalism and false notions of exclusivity are. It's not what you believe that matters as much as how you believe and what you do with that belief.

Just what happened 2,000 years ago?

Although it's not generally treated as such, this is one of the biggest and most significant days for Christianity. Today marks the day that one "Jesus of Nazareth" (or whatever it is you decide he should be called) was crucified. OK, we don't know for sure if it was him, in particular, but it this day that we set aside to remember whoever it was that was crucified around this time who, by all indications, changed the course of world history.

I'm not making light of the fact that we don't know historically for sure what happened oh, so long ago. I mean, in the end, what difference does it make? Normally, none, but we have the reality that more than 2,000 years later, the whole world, not just some obscure Jewish sect, arranges its calendars around this particular and specific event. I don't care who you are, you have to wonder about that. And, I don't care who you are, playing it off as nothing does no more for us than claiming that this is the be-all-and-end-all of human existence.

Me? Well, I have a very pragmatic streak: we all celebrate Easter (which was initiated by today, Good Friday) and I really have to ask myself what it means that more than 2,000 years after the alleged event, we're not only remembering it, but we're marking our time in relation to it. For sure: why is it 2016 and not some other year? And more significantly: why is it 2016 and not the-year-in-the-reign-of-so-and-so? Not only is it not insignificant ... it is downright defining of who we think we are as a culture (and, in the meantime, the world). Take a moment and let that sink in -- be you devoutly "Christian" (whatever that means) or an "atheist" (whatever that means as well).

I'm sorry: any way you take it, something happened. It might have been meaningful or it might have been a delusion, but something happened, and it doesn't really matter if that "something" was institutionalized "at the time" or some time later. Whatever it was, it changed the way we perceive and understand the world we encounter.

Even though I'm not necessarily so, I have to take the direct route this time: we don't know. I've got a lot of fundamentalistically inclined friends, and they have a lot of emotion and lot of themselves invested in believing that what happened then is a particular fact. I have a lot of other friends who are just as adamant about the fact that nothing -- and I mean absolutely nothing -- happened. The former have the burden of proof; the latter have the burden of explanation. Neither of them come close to shouldering their burdens.

So, here's my own, personal, take on the matter:

It doesn't matter. Neither of these extreme positions explains or accounts for anything.

I'm not saying that nothing happened. It is as plain as the nose on any of our faces that something did in fact happen, something so significant that we decided to change how we count the years. Oh sure, you can maintain that after the fact the dominant group imposed its way of counting on the masses, but that dominant group has changed identities as often as most people change their underwear and we're still counting in the "new" way. If I'm wrong, let me know. You may be able to rationalize or explain away the "event", but you're going to have trouble explaining away the consequences.

What I love most about today is that neither the die-hard believers nor the die-hard disbelivers can offer up reasonable evidence to support their case. In these days of scientific understanding, neither the totally-for nor the totally-against can make any kind of convincing argument to "prove" their position. I love that. We just don't know, and we have to live with it.

The big day is here

OK, I'll admit it: I'm absoluetly gob-smacked that today is just another holiday. It's Good Friday, fer Chrissake (with a tip o' the hat to Salinger), and while we're all happy that we have the day off (that is, for those who work for companies that recognize today as a holiday: some do, some don't, some only half-way), most people I know have no idea why we should care (be aware of the fact) at all.

OK, I have to insert a personal comment here: in the US (my other "home"), Good Friday really wasn't a holiday. I never got the day off; here in Germany, it has the status of an almost-official holiday, and most people get the day off with pay). This fact, in and of itself, is worth reflecting upon. In a country that prides itself of its "Christian values", the day is, at best, a half-day-not-having-to-work-day, while the world's export leader still has it enshrined as a full-fledged day-off-work-with-pay day, go figure.

But this brings us directly to the point:

A culture's values are reflected in it so-called holidays; that is, those days on which its commercial interests are willing to spend money even though they get nothing in return.

Let's face it: a truly modern-capitalistic organization can't be in favor of any holidays; that is, working days with pay. How could they be? Profits are generated through work, not through non-work or the absence of work or not working, or whatever. Holidays; that is, days without work, are unjustifiable. How is it possible, why should one pay wages for a day in which nothing constructive is done? Oh, I understand the logic, but at the same time I have to ask whether the logic is reasonable in the first place.

This is no pseudo-issue. It's real. Money may "work" 24/7. Profits may be generated 24/7. But, human beings don't function 24/7. I don't know about you, but every once in a while, I need to sleep.

And so, here we are with this "pseudo-holiday" that "business" would like to eliminate, but which, people be damned, it just can't do. And why? Well, it turns out that the answer lies neither in the holiday itself nor in the weakening cultural framework that imposes it.

For all the materialistic, money-talks-nobody-walks mentality that we like to propagate, the truth of the matter is that we have to accommodate and deal with people anyhow. For all the blustering about growth and ROI and stability in the future, we're all still dependent upon the fragile, unknowing, fallible human beings who do our bidding, to the best of their ability.

We've set up a system in which it appears that the "knowers" know what they are doing, but this is increasingly showing itself to be a facade. We like to think that this is how things have always been, but we're increasingly coming to realize that this is just the way we've made things for now. We want to believe that those who say they know actually know, but we're seeing day in and day out that the "experts" sleight-of-hand can't possibly be the way forward.

According to the "'myth' of the day", someone called power's bluff. Why is it that we still think that power has the winning hand?

Fear will be our undoing

FDR's "We have nothing to fear but fear itself" is one of those quotes we learn about in school and don't understand until many, many years later. When he said it, the Depression was wreaking its havoc and WW2 was on the horizon. There was, to be sure, lots of reasons why lots of Americans were afraid. And, the same is true today.

Terrorism, be it domestic (the preferred American variety) or foreign (what the rest of the world gets), has but one goal: instilling terror in those in some way close to the victims. For the most part it works, and the knee-jerk reaction to anything that terrorizes us is to fight back. Against what? We don't always know. But when we're "thinking" with our spinal columns, it doesn't really matter. Better a bigger bunch of bodies lying around than to do "nothing", whereby not reacting in a knee-jerk manner is probably the best thing you can do. And here, the emphasis is on "do". Having the presence of mind, willingness, and courage to not simply lash out in fear is an act, an action, worth applauding.

Problems are never, and have never been, solved by violence. It doesn't matter what the problem is. Problems aren't, and never will be, resolved, by blindly reacting aggressively. Frustration (and a feeling of powerlessness) is poor counsel for smart decisions. Don't get me wrong, I know just how easy it is do simply strike back; I know how much we'd like to just "put an end to it all". But, truth be told, that's not how things work, and it is long past time that we grow up and recognize that all the approaches we have tried thus far have not produced the results that most of us want. It is time most of us realize, though, that the results that "we" want are not necessarily the results that others -- in particular, others with more influence with decision-makers -- may want.

Terrorists live from terror. The more afraid we are, the more effectively they've "done their job". If we all don't immediately react with abject fear, we've got a huge, well-paid, and submissive media industry which will do what it can to keep us shaking in our shoes. And, there are untold numbers of large and small corporations who start rubbing their hands in glee, for nothing sells weapons like fear. Yes, the first question we always have to ask ourselves in "cui bono" (Who benefits?) And, the fact that the question shows up in Latin (a language spoken by the world's last great empire, two millennia ago) should tell you how long "we, the people" have been having to put up with this.

Power lives off fear. It is really that simple. The more you're afraid, the more power others have. We really need to start asking ourselves just how much we need to be living in fear. We need to ask ourselves whether our willingness to submit, to kow-tow, to defer to the "wisdom" of others is really worth the benefits we supposedly gain.

When you're afraid, you can't think clearly. When you're afraid, you're more than willing to compromise. When you're afraid, you can be too easily led and misled. And all the blustering, bravado, macho, military, fire-power, talk will -- I can assure you, and history proves me right -- remain just that, talk. Why? Because you can't bomb an idea out of existence. Ideas ... and their evil spawn ideologies ... can only be countered by sounder, stronger, more substantial ideas. Resorting to force, pure and simple, merely "proves" that you have no ideas left.

Yes, fear will be our undoing, if we continue to be afraid, but what we should be more afraid of than random terror itself is the calculated terror we are fed day in and day out from those who allegedly want to protect us.

Time to turn around

When beliefs become collective and unquestioned, they become a danger to us all. It doesn't matter if they are social, cultural, economic or religious. The result is always the same: massive death and destruction. I would like to think that we, as a species, are smarter than to keep falling for the same delusions, but I'm having a hard time maintaining that belief in the face of all the evidence to the contrary.

When we were looking at individual beliefs and knowledge, it was clear that this overshadowing threat was simply not present. For all intents and purposes, it really doesn't matter what any one of us, what any given individual, believes. It does not have a significant, and certainly not a negative impact on the world at large (though any misguided individual can wreak a lot of havoc and cause a lot of harm). The problem arose when too many people bought into a given ideology without critically questioning where the beliefs should lead. In all of the examples cited, there was one common feature that was the ideologies ultimate undoing, namely its focus on one particular group to the exclusion of others.

All of these ideologies are drenched in us-vs.-them thinking. It can be the Master Race, or the Master Class, or the Greatest Country in the World ... it doesn't matter: each and every one of these belief systems, these ideologies, is exclusionary. Any individual or any group who is not part of the "elect" will either be forced to acknowledge the superiority of the "true believers" or they will be forced to pay the price for non-believing. Isn't there a way to avoid this pitfall? I would like to think there is, but I'm convinced it can't be found in the ideologies themselves. It can only be found within ourselves as individuals.

This is the reason that I suggested not long ago that an alternative to reading this summer might be some intense or serious reflection. I don't think it's a bad thing at all when we are sure, when we have reasons, when we can make clear to others what we believe. We can (and should) do this independent of anything that anyone else might think. We don't need to belong to a group, formal or informal, we only need to be ourselves and be aware of our own, individual approach to life. We need to be sure of ourselves and in doing so, we become an inspiration, or a role model, for others.

But where does one start? Anywhere is fine. You can start with your economic or political or social or cultural beliefs. It doesn't matter. The most basic question is "why do I believe ? The rest is up to you, your desire, your intent, and your attention span. Find out what you believe, then find out why. If you can't find any reasons, the time has come to ask yourself whether you want to continue believing that or not. Another place to start might be the question, "When and for what reasons does (my) life make sense to me?" Or maybe, "What is the single most important thing that I wished everyone believed?" If you're serious about it, the rest will follow, all on its own.

It is very likely that none of us individually can solve the world's problems. The good thing is, we don't have to. We've all got more than enough to do with getting our own houses (selves) in order. If you're having trouble making sense of everything "out there", the least you can do is try to make sense of whatever you find "in here".

It's that time of year again

To the pagans of ancient times, the end of April and the end of October were special times: this was their celebration of the beginning of Spring and Autumn, the start and mid-point of a year, the celebrations that had to do with balance.

We don't think like that anymore. One day is like the next, one season like any other, even if we all have our personal preferences. We live by the clock, not by the sun; we are aware of the time of year, but never of its significance. We moderns are so arrogant, we have no idea how ignorant we are.

Prior to the railroads, we lived by the sun. We arose when it was light and retired when it was dark. Our days in winter were much shorter than those in summer, and we acted and interacted accordingly. Now, we have not only standardized our "time", we forcefully distort (e.g., Daylight Savings Time), regardless of what it costs us financially, personally, or even spiritually.

OK, I outed myself: I'm old school. The particular numbers on a clock, the position of the clock's hands don't really mean a whole helluva lot to me. It's not because I don't care, not at all, but rather because it doesn't matter.

Six in the morning? Some people get up, others continue to sleep. Twelve noon? Some people are looking for (or enjoying) lunch, others are back at work or waiting. The evening news comes at five, six, seven or eight ... it doesn't matter. We pay little attention anyhow. The news only tells us whether we can move into evening-relax mode or have dinner or, well, whatever.

But for me, today, Walpurgisnacht (Walpurgis' Night) is always special. It is a forgotten holiday, but a traditionally mystical-magical day (night). We have retained part of that magic in May Day Dancing and festivals, but of course not in America, because May Day is also the "communist" Labor Day. Our modern, sterile, ignorant-of-tradition, and ignorant repression of the natural cycle of nature have obscured and thereby made meaningless the inspiring beauty and enlivening of nature's rhythms.

In truth, I feel sorry for all those contemporaries who can only live in a clock-determined, clock-driven world. I am saddened by all those who cannot escape their self-created prisons of time. I am disheartened that I cannot make clear to them that they have enslaved themselves to an illusion we call time.

Many people that I know are enamored by and love their radio-controlled watches and clocks, because, well, you really know what time it is. That this "absolute time" is a mere average of 11 different "nuclear clocks" should give us pause to wonder just how exact and precise an average really is. If nothing else, it is a fixation on a detail that merely obscures the bigger picture: the wonderful and wondrous cycles of nature.

This is what I think of on this particular day of the year. Not because of the absurdity of our modern obsessions, but because of the respect it gives me for those who came before and who understood.

Yes, that's our modern malady: we know, but we really don't understand.

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.

Heaven home?

The last couple of posts dealing with Wade Bowen's song got me thinking a bit farther afield as well. In fact, while reflecting on it, I was reminded of a story I heard a long time ago that made quite the impression on me, so I thought I'd share:

A student once asked his Rabbi: "Worthy Teacher, what is Hell like?"

To which, the Rabbi responded: "Hell, my Son, is like a great banquet, a feast attended by all. There are rich and luscious delicacies beyond the imagination, food of all kinds and in never-ending abundance.

"Around the table, however, are sitting the most pitiful and ravaged souls. Skeletons with the flesh falling from their bones because they have been given only long spoons to eat with and try as they might, they simply cannot get the food into their mouths. They sit in the presence of all that is good and they are starving.

"Well, then, Worthy Teacher, what is Heaven like?"

"Ah, Heaven, my Son", the Rabbi answered, "Heaven is like a great banquet, a feast attended by all. There are rich and luscious delicacies beyond the imagination, food of all kinds and in never-ending abundance.

"Around the table, however, are sitting plump and jolly souls. Laughing and thankful folks who have also been given those long spoons as well, and they are merrily feeding one another."

Just a thought ...

What's the big deal?

Good question: what is the big deal? I mean, after all, we're all grown up, mature, and tolerant people, right? No, wrong. OK, we've got separation of church and state and the Constitution in the US, for example, guarantees that separation, right? No, wrong. Well, OK, we're all just good people; we know what we're doing, right? No, I'm sorry, wrong again.

We're not all that grown up or mature. Consider the fanaticism with which, say, Americans (or now the the European Soccer Championships are in full gear, we could use a lot of Europeans as a similar example) get absolutely rabid about sports. That's adolescent, I'm afraid. It's a my-team-is-better-than-your-team; my-dad-can-beat-up-your-dad mentality. Sports have their place, but it shouldn't be at the top of our priority list.

Well, OK, there's at least the separation of church and state, but that's an illusion, too. The moment Bush II can speak about faith-based initiatives from the bully pulpit of the presidency that line has been crossed. The moment that Falwells and Robertsons mobilize voters to vote their beliefs, not their reason, that line has been crossed. The moment it's about Biblical justification for the passage of laws (be it teaching of creationism or attacking Planned Parenthood), the line has been crossed. We love to point the finger at the Iranians, but it's not all that clear to me that America is much different in a lot of regions of the country.

But, we're good people, aren't we? Maybe. But how do we decide what is good? If the pope or the preacher or the evangelist shouldn't dictate what we believe, who should? Anyone? Should we really figure it out for ourselves? People like to rant and rave against Islam or Christianity, but when you consider how many Christian denominations are existant in the US (and yes, that is an American phenomenon), they can't agree on their religious beliefs, so why do we thing they would have anything to say about our moral positions? Right. We're back where we were with our thoughts about the state of political discourse these days: that would be nowhere.

Until we're ready to take "the other" seriously, until we're ready to truly listen to what someone else has to say, until we're ready to engage our discussion partner as an equal partner, we'll just keep yelling and barking and snapping at each other as we are right now. And, once again, look where that has got us.

Pride before the fall?

OK, I hated (at least a little bit) to leave that last post hanging, but how much more is there really to say? We've got some unexplained (but not necessarily threatening) natural phenomena going on, and we've got some sensationalist news folks (almost exclusively American) "investigating" it all. And, we've got the fact that some of what has been going on has always been going on (but we haven't written it down), and some of it is truly a bit odd and in need of serious investigation. But, that still leaves us with what I consider to be the most important, and least asked, question of all: so what?

Let's assume the worst-case scenario: 2012 the world comes to an end. The Mayans turn out to be "right" (though we have no idea why their calendar ends or what they were up to, but no matter: we're dealing worst-case here). The Earth is rebelling, the Sun is overreacting, humankind have overstayed their welcome and are destroying Gaia ... it doesn't matter how we describe it, the world is coming to and end. Again, I have to ask, so what?

Why is this such a big deal? If you're a good Gd-fearing, born-again Christian, you can't help but get into rejoicing mode, because you're about to be taken into the bosom of Abraham. If you're a good Allah-fearing Moslem, you can't help but get into rejoicing mode, because He is about to assert his authority. If you're a good, Gd-fearing Jew, you can't help but get into rejoicing mode, because what has begun must also end. If you're a good, observant Buddhist, you can't help but get into rejoicing mode, because the Wheel is turning once more, and there's a good chance we all get off. If you're just a plain, old, everyday atheist, you can't help but not get excited at all: we're just here by chance anyway, so there's a chance at some point we won't be here.

In other words, just about every group I can think of has all their bets covered. And, if that's the case, why is it that the American news media thinks it can increase its sales (at least until the bottom falls out) and make even more money than it already shamefully does? It's quite simple actually: chances are good that nothing is going to end, except for the way that some people currently think. And that, my friends, is what so many folks are afraid of: they might be believing the wrong things? The big, threatening question is always: what if the other guys are right?

My question is, of course, the same as always: so what? All your believing can't change what is. Perhaps it is simply time to step a bit more slowly, to get a bit less insistant, and to become a bit more open to ... well, faith. The degree to which you are afraid, is the degree to which you do not know. The degree to which you are sure, is the degree to which you have no idea. The degree to which you accept, is the degree to which you are actually free. That's what a wise man once said: you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.