Category Archives: Religion

Introducing a book review

Funny Religious Sticker

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Last Thursday, Fred Clark of Slacktivist fame wrote a fantastic review of Raised Right:  How I Untangled My Faith from Politics, a book by Alisa Harris[1] that was released today.  I was fascinated enough by Fred’s review and the quotes from the book he selected that I decided to purchase the Kindle edition of the book.  I started reading it tonight and decided I’d start blogging about it.

What interests me most about the books is that in many ways, Harris and I come from very similar backgrounds.  I was raised in a conservative evangelical community, was raised to believe that homosexuality was an abomination[2], abortion was murder, and good Christians voted Republican.

Where my upbringing differs from that of Harris is that while I was raised to believe all the same things, my family was not very politically active and did not consider it our duty to be so.  Certainly, my parents voted — and always for candidates who promised to stand “on the right side” of various issues.  They considered (and to the best of my knowledge, still do) both their civic duty as well as a part of their service to God.  But they were not people to carry picket signs, write letters to elected officials, or even give to various political organization.  In fact, if my parents gave to anything other than their church, I suspect it would be the Family Life Network, which runs a number of radio stations whose coverage includes the county my parents live in.

I think this is in part because my parents understood there is more to Christian life than the political machinations that Harris writes about.  My parents are far more community-oriented and understand that Christian life is about building and serving community as much as — maybe even more than — it is about stopping “the gay agenda” or shouting down doctors who perform abortions or women who seek out their services.  In some ways, I consider it an advantage to having grown up in a very rural area.

I think growing up in that rural area is another part of the reason for why activism didn’t play such a big part in my childhood, though.  Where my parents live, all that “political stuff” happens somewhere else, places like New York, Washington D.C. and San Francisco.  Sure, there were gay people and women who had abortions around, but it was — or at least appeared to be — something extremely rare.  People in our community were “good people” whose exposure to such things was minimal and possibly even nonexistent.  So picketing is something that would have involved long drives.  And with Boy Scouts for me (until I quit when I was about 14) and twirling baton in parades for my sister who had time for all that traveling to exotic and dubious places?

On the flip side, I suppose this makes my family and me typical members of the religious conservatives’ “target audience.”  I was someone who knew nothing about what gay people were like, who knew nothing of the issues of abortion, or anything else the religious activists beat their drums about.  I had no way of evaluating what they told me for accuracy or honesty — or at least I had no idea how to go about doing so.

So I come to Harris’s book as something of a kindred spirit, yet as someone who’s experience is slightly different.  We have come to similar places — though she retained her Christian faith while I moved on — but by slightly different routes.  And that is what I would like to explore as I go through the book, hopefully chapter by chapter.

[1] To the best of my knowledge, the author and I are not related.

Catholic Charities need to decide if they’re a religions group or an agent of the state

A third proposed version of the map showing th...

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This morning, I read an article by Michael Gormley about the status of New York legislation that could bring about marriage equality here in the Empire State.  I’ve been following this story pretty closely in my private time and am excited that my state may soon allow me to marry my (hypothetical) partner rather than requiring me to elope to Massachusetts[1].  I practically cheered to learn that they only need one more state senator to sign on to guarantee passage.

Gormley reports that the current hold-up is discussions over religious protections:

Democrats and Republicans emerged from meetings with Democratic Gov.
Andrew Cuomo and said there is progress toward proposed additional
religious protections that could bring a gay marriage bill to the Senate
floor for a vote as early as Wednesday night.

By the sounds of it, Cuomo and supporters are trying to take the teeth out of the old arguments currently be raised by the National Organization for Marriage of Moralists.  I’m a bit troubled by that, as the arguments about religious freedoms are all based on lies.  Truth be told, churches and religious organizations already have plenty of protections.  A minister or church cannot be compelled to host or perform any marriage — even any opposite sex marriage — they do not approve of.  Any stories about such nonsense (such as the Ocean Grove pavilion controversy) are usually misrepresented, and a careful examination of the facts demonstrate that the situation is not about religious freedom at all.  To be frank, the Religious Right crowd is fond of spreading misinformation to make themselves look like martyrs and to drive fear-based political action and decisions.

My pragmatic side almost wants to just shrug and give a thumbs up to the unnecessary “religious protections” that may get put into the new legislation.  After all, if such legislation forces NOM and company to shut up (or at least makes it easier for people to see their lies for what they are), then it’s not all bad.  But then, I read this part of the article (emphasis mine):

More protection for religious organizations such as adoption agencies
and marriage counselors is sought by undecided Republican senators who
are key to the vote.

You see, the mention of adoption agencies tells me that someone is thinking about situations like what’s going on with Catholic Charities in Illinois[2].  And this is the exact kind of lying that I’m talking about.  You see, NOM would have you believe that Catholic Charities in Illinois is being forced to close their adoption services if they continue discriminate against same sex couples.  However, that’s not true, unless you assume that the rich and powerful Catholic church needs government assistance to do its charity work.

You see, that’s the part that NOM and company fail to mention:  Catholic Charities operates their adoption services in Illinois (and elsewhere) under a government contract and with state funding.  And the state regulations require that any organization or business who uses taxpayer money to provide a service must not discriminate against anyone who seeks out that service.  This isn’t a case of Catholic Charities losing their religious freedom.  When it comes to their adoption services, they gave up that freedom[3] when they became a contracted agent of the state funded by that same state.

If the religious protections in this new legislation goes on to say that religious groups can offer state-funded and state-contracted services and still discriminate, then those clauses are no longer about religious protections.  They are about state endorsements of religious privilege.  They are about using taxpayer money — including gay taxpayers — to support an agent of the state who is allowed to engage in discrimination while acting as an agent of the state.

And that’s just not cool.  It’s also why even my pragmatic side cannot get behind these so-called “religious protections,” even if they do bring marriage equality to my state.  Because marriage equality that still allows religiously motivated agents of the state to discriminate against me isn’t actually marriage equality.  It’s still a form of second-class citizenship.

[1]  Seriously.  New York would consider me married right now if I went and had the ceremony in a state that already performs same-sex marriages, but will not currently allow me to have the ceremony here among my loved ones.  That’s just a strange state of affairs.

[2] This also took place with Catholic Charities in Massachusetts and looks like it will be a common theme across the country.

[3]  In fairness, they only gave up that right in terms of how they conduct their state-contracted and state-funded services.  They’re still free to give homily’s about how gay people are inherently disordered to their heart’s content.

Devotion is great. I wish you’d focus more on it.

Personal Failure linked to and responded to a post about religious devotion.  Her response understandably focused on the slight the post made against atheists.  I wanted to explore this post a bit more myself though as someone who is also a strong believer in religious devotion*

After giving his speech about the importance of piety — a word I might have personally avoided, given the immense negative connotations that have gotten attached to it and even made their way into the dictionary definitions — and offered his patronizing disapproval of those who do not follow (his) God, Fr. Zuhlsdorf offers a quote from Pope Benedict:

If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves
totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away
from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant,
something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not
then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom?

I’ll note that, in my opinion, this underlines the problem with many Christians’ understanding of piety and morality in general:  It’s about giving things up and refraining from things.**  When morality, piety, and devotion become nothing more than avoiding those things which are deemed bad, it’s bound to feel restrictive.  It’s also bound to leave people wondering what they should do.

Fr. Zuhlsdorf goes on to talk about sins of omission, recognizing that morality, piety, and devotion do require positive action, but he still speaks in negative terms, in terms of failing to act:

That is where we ferret out our negligence in regard to the virtue of religion, negligence in respect to God and to neighbor.

The problem with this approach is that if you’re thinking in terms of what you should have done and failed to do, you started a good thing way too late.  It would have been far better to go throughout your day asking what you should be doing, what good you can do.  This enables and encourages positive action rather than guilt over negative action or a failure to act.

Fr. Zuhlsdorf finally gets that idea, but only at the end.  And he glosses over it but briefly.

Second, during the day, silently to yourself, perhaps say a brief
prayer.  Pick one.  How about, “Jesus, meek and humble of heart: Make my
heart like unto Thine.”

His blog post would have been much better if he had started his missive on personal devotion with this prayer, especially if he had expanded on it.  It could have been a post on what it means to have a heart like Jesus, and what kinds of acts such a heart leads to.  Effectively, it could have led into something very similar to my own Prayer for Living Worship.  Such a prayer, written with passages like 1 Corinthians 13 and Galations 5 in mind, would have been a perfect lead in to a sort of devotion that any person — even one of those “awful atheists” would have trouble finding fault with.

*  My own.  Whether or not anyone else is religiously devoted is none of my business, let alone subject to any actual judgment on my part.

** I’ll note that this is a problem I have when many Pagans seem to reduce our ethics to nothing more than “don’t hurt anyone” as well.

Criticizing the Golden Rule Pledge

Day of Silence

Image by Megadeth’s Girl via Flickr

Fictional story:

The other morning, there was a knock on my door.  A couple in their late twenties stood there with a clipboard, and asked to talk to me about domestic violence.  They showed me some frightening statistics about the number of men and women who are abused and beaten by their spouses.  They had both statistics for the nation and our own county.  They then asked me to help put an end to domestic violence, showing me a petition in support of new legislation that would call for stricter sentencing for those convicted of domestic violence, budget for the creation of programs to better train police officers to respond to and investigate claims of domestic violence, and other measures.

I decided not to sign the petition.  Instead, I decided to hand them a card, that says the following:

I pledge to treat others the way I want to be treated.

I strongly believe that domestic violence is wrong and I would never hurt another person, even my own spouse.  So I’m offering my pledge to the golden rule in response to the issue of domestic violence.

The point:

I suspect that many of my readers are having a rather predictable reaction to the above story.  I can just hear people like Eileen (assuming she still reads me) getting ready to type a lengthy comment about how serious domestic violence and simply promising to treat others well in accordance with the Golden Rule isn’t nearly enough.  And I’m in total agreement with her.

I’ve had the exact same reaction the last two years when Dr. Warren Throckmorton began to propose the Golden Rule Pledge as an appropriate response to The Day Of Silence, an annual event meant to raise awareness of anti-gay bullying and other mistreatment of gay people (or people who are merely perceived as gay) that takes place all over this country and to advocate for such bullying to stop.

Now, in Dr. Throckmorton’s defense, I will note that his response to The Day of Silence is far superior to other responses proposed by other conservative Christian groups.  The Golden Rule Pledge is far better than The Day of Truth or merely proposing that all Christians avoid school during The Day of Silence.  And I give him credit for not trying to paint a day dedicated to the idea that it’s wrong to bully and mistreat gay people as some horrible, immoral idea.

But in the end, I find it a weak response at best.  It’s great that Dr. Throckmorton and those with him are willing to promise to treat others well.  However, I also want to know what they’re going to do about the bullying and mistreatment being propagated by others who don’t share their commitment to the Golden Rule.  Saying you won’t mistreat gay people while still standing by while others do so just doesn’t cut it in my book.  In my mind, justice demands that right-minded people stand up to the bullies and say, “What you are doing is wrong and you must stop.”  Confronting the injustice head-on is absolutely essential.  And in that respect, I feel the Golden Rule Pledge fails miserably, just as such a pledge in response to domestic violence fails miserably.

Light in the darkness

The Candle

Image by Rickydavid via Flickr

From my private journal.

I sit here in my living room next to the only lamp that’s lit in the entire house.  For the half hour prior to me picking up my pen, the only light in the house was made by three tea lights and a votive candle.  I spent that time laying on the couch enjoying the dimness, letting the shifting glimmers of light cast by those small flames dance around me.

There’s something magical about such a scene.  Whenever I sit in such lighting, I get a sense of peace and comfort.  It’s as if the near-darkness stills the world around me itself, swallowing up ll the cares and worries of my life.  In such a setting, there is no place for the myriad distractions I normally face.

And then there’s the light.  Tiny and almost fragile, it flickers and dances.  And yet, it’s intensely bright in comparison to the darkness around it.  It becomes all the more beautiful and powerful for that contrast.

And that play of darkness and light allows me to turn inward.  the still silence allows me to see that same interplay within myself.  For I can see the small sparks of passion, love, courage, and compassion twinkling in my very soul.  They wait for those perfect opportunities to shine brightly into the rest of my life and the world around me.  They are ready to shine even in the darkest and most empty of times.

After all, that’s when they’re the easiest to see.

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Control, Influence, and Madeleine L’Engle

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

Image by Dana Durell via Flickr

While I was blogging yesterday about community, church, and worship my Zemanta plugin suggested a possibly related link with a quote from the author, Madeleine L’Engle.  I found part of that quote very interesting:

Artists have always been drawn to the wild, wide elements they cannot control or understand — the sea, mountains, fire. To be an artist means to approach the light, and that means to let go our control, to allow our whole selves to be placed with absolute faith in that which is greater than we are. The novel we site down to write, and the one we end up writing may be very different, just as the Jesus we grasp and the Jesus who grasps us may also differ.

We live under the illusion that if we can acquire complete control, we can understand God, or we can write the great American novel. But the only way we can brush against the hem of the Lord, or hope to be part of the creative process, is to have the courage, the faith, to abandon control.

Personally, I think L’Engle is onto something profound here, and it’s something that is as important in witchcraft as it is in L’Engle’s faith.  That profound truth is that it’s never about control, because control is an illusion.  Whether you’re talking about art, faith, or magic, there is no such thing as absolute control.

But something that L’Engle points out that there is a difference between control — especially absolute control — and influence and the creative process.  It is possibl to not still be in control and still hold considerable influence.  It is possible to be a less-than-perfect co-creator.  In fact, it’s the only thing we can be.  I’d even go so far as to say that it’s the only thing we should be.

Our job is not to gain mastery over everything.  That’s good, because that would be an impossible task.  (And my gods and my faith do not require me to undertake impossible tasks.)  Instead, ours is to look at the reality around us and identify what we can do and do exactly that.  No more.  No less.

Magic does not change that goal.  It is not a means by which we discover all the secrets of the universe and therefore become its master.  It’s merely another tool we can use to manifest our limited and imperfect influence.  And it’s a nice tool to have.

I also like how L’Engle makes that connection between faith and art.  I think it’s a great one, and I think there’s a similar connection between art and magic.  After all, they are both processes of creation, and I think all such processes are ultimately of the same essense.

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Worship, community, and a few related bits

Wiccans gather for a handfasting ceremony at A...

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A few years ago, I participated in a discussion about Wiccan devotions on an email list that focused on British Traditional Wicca.  One of the elders (I forget which tradition) commented that just about any act can become an act of devotion simply by keeping in mind the Wiccan Mysteries.  It’s something that’s stuck with me, and I tend to see things the same way, understanding that an act of devotion is about perception as much as it’s about carrying out any particular activity or procedure.  And in many ways, I tend to see worship (which I’m not sure I see as entirely distinct from devotion anyway) in much the same way.  After all, I’m constantly reminded of my paragraph from The Charge of the Goddess:

Let My worship be within the heart that rejoices,
for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.
Therefore let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion,
honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

So to me, anything which brings to mind beauty, compassion, reverence, or any of the other virtues mentioned is an act of worship.  Any situation that brings about rejoicing and good cheer is an act of worship in my mind.  And if I meet another person and as a result we share these virtues and that rejoicing with each other, that is a moment where we have joined together in worship.

I’ve been thinking of this due to a conversation a couple of us had over on Matt’s post about “going to church.”  As part of the discussion, I suggested that if a small group of believers ran into each other at the grocery story, that might be considered “church happening.”  Scott disagreed:

I get
what Jared is saying, and I appreciate the intent, but this is not
church. Three people randomly meeting at a grocery store are not
gathered to communal bear witness to the risen Jesus through worship
and service.

Personally, I offered my own disagreement with Scott:

Why
not? Can’t service and worship happen anywhere and spontaneously? Isn’t
the act of just meeting and showing each other Christian love an act of
worship? After all, didn’t Christ himself say that people would know
his followers by how they loved one another? And once those people meet
so “randomly,” what opportunities for service might they find in that
“random” moment? Perhaps they can help the elderly woman who’s trying
to make her way through the crowded produce aisle. Perhaps they can
help the overly-tired mother with three very active children do her
shopping.

And therein lies my point. I think it’s important to see ANY
gathering of believers — no matter how random or unplanned — as
church simply because ANY such situation can lead to communal service
and worship. And I’ll be so bold as to suggest that not recognizing
each such moment as such simply blinds one to the opportunities such a
moment might actually offer.

Maybe my point is moot.  Maybe Christian theology simply doesn’t support my basic assumptions.  (Christians will have to decide (a) if that’s the case and (b) whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing if it’s not.)  However, from my perspective, it only makes sense.  Where more than one person meet, see the sacredness in each other and in the sharing of lives, loves, joys, and sorrows, worship can and will take place.

And I’d like to think that, as I mentioned, such a mentality does offer a chance for service.  Going through each moment of life with this attitude tends to make one more aware of opportunities to help others and touch lives.  Certainly, they might be small ways to do so.  But who says you have to do something big for it to count?

As I mentioned in the discussion in Matt’s blog, anything less than this mentality suggests to me a compartmentalization of sacred experience and sacred living.  Community — even religious community — doesn’t happen at special events.  It’s heartbeat lives in every moment lived, at least to those of us who take the time to listen for it.

To do otherwise would strike me as, well, irreligious.

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