Get off the fence!

      My regular (car-)commute route to DU takes me past a church that routinely posts a quotation on one of their lawn-signs.  Early this week the quotation was from Holocaust survivor, Nobel Peace Prize winner, and author Elie Wiesel:  "The opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference."  (There is more to the original:  "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of beauty is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, but indifference between life and death."*)   I recalled seeing Elie Wiesel speak many years ago.  I was struck by his lack of indifference.  His many books are passion-filled; he argues effectively for the future of our species, even while experiencing one of our darkest periods.
       Also this week, I received a newsletter, the "Awakin Weekly". The lead article was by another well-known Jewish author and scholar, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, entitled "Radical Amazement".  He wrote:  "The surest way to suppress our ability to understand the meaning of God and the importance of worship is to take things for granted. Indifference to the sublime wonder of living is the root of sin (emphasis added)."  I was struck by the coincidence (or synchronicity) of finding both authors addressing "indifference" in the same week -- although in very different ways.
        Their concern, however, about "indifference" is something I've shared, and puzzled over, for some time.  I've long advocated for passionately pursuing a goal, not sitting on the sidelines.  My doctoral dissertation (on self-castration among some early Christian men . . . yes, that was the topic . . . and, yes, you may inquire further) focused on why someone would inflict irreversible injury on one's own body for religious reasons --- that is NOT the action of someone who was INDIFFERENT, but who REALLY believed in what he was doing.  It wasn't much of a stretch for me to wonder about kamikaze pilots as well -- not indifferent people at all.
        Individuals in these latter two groups are folks many of us would call "crazy".  We wonder, too, about the state-of-mind of those who would be seduced by rhetoric suggesting that suicide terrorist acts are praiseworthy.  But all of them display, it seems to me, a passion, a commitment, that, if it conformed to our belief-system, would be commended.  I've come to believe that we judge the act not by the commitment that lies behind it, but rather by the cause it reflects.
         I may open myself to criticism here (and it won't be the first time!), but I'd rather engage--peacefully, of course--with someone who was committed to their cause, whether I agreed or not, than with someone who couldn't care less.  And it seems to me that that is what a university should be all about:  fostering passion and commitment in the service of others . . . as well as civil discourse that can move us all forward.  What both Wiesel and Heschel point out is that doing otherwise, not paying attention, is setting oneself up to be caught on the fence, embarrassed, ineffective, immobile -- perhaps even sinful.        

Blessings,

Gary

*US News & World Report, October 27, 1986

Morning poem

         Life continues to intervene in very unexpected ways.  That has continued to be the case for my family the last several weeks.  And, so, again, instead of my usual Friday meditation, I offer a poem from  Mary Oliver as a spur for meditation:

Morning Poem

Every morning

the world

is created. 

Under the orange 

sticks of the sun

the heaped

ashes of the night

turn into leaves again 

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---

and the ponds appear

like black cloth

on which are painted islands 

of summer lilies. 

If it is your nature

to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails 

for hours, your imagination

alighting everywhere. 

And if your spirit

carries within it 

the thorn

that is heavier than lead ---

if it's all you can do

to keep on trudging --- 

there is still

somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth

is exactly what it wanted --- 

each pond with its blazing lilies

is a prayer heard and answered

lavishly, 

every morning, 

whether or not

you have ever dared to be happy, 

whether or not

you have ever dared to pray. 

from Dream Work (1986) by Mary Oliver

Blessings,

Gary

Caravan to Love

         Life intervenes sometimes in very unexpected ways.  That has been the case for my family this week.  And, so, instead of my usual Friday meditation, I'm going to offer a brief prayer/poem from the poet Rumi as a spur for meditation:

Come, come, whoever you are.
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come. 

Blessings,

Gary

To tell the truth?

     I was in the fitness center this week, working out on an elliptical trainer.  As is the case in just about every gym I've visited, there is a bank of television sets tuned to a variety of channels - I suppose to keep our minds off of how exhausted we're getting. At that particular time of the day, there was a locally-produced "show" that is little more than info-mercials -- just with a Colorado slant.  Since I've been in the gym at that time before, I've seen "interviews" with doctors, dentists, cooks, home-repair folks, etc.  But this particular "episode" just about floored me.
      The segment was about (what looked like) a "fat-reducing machine".  The gizmo, as far as I could tell (since there was no sound), was placed on the belly of the patient and, somehow, through suction and heat, that awful belly-fat was made to disappear.  AND, they had before and after pictures to PROVE it!  And, golly, there were people in lab coats performing the procedure!  You just gotta trust 'em, right?  They have to be telling the truth!  All I could think of were the vibrating bands and little steam cabinets that were features of shows like "I Love Lucy", or even some of the early James Bond films -- and that have been thoroughly discredited.  Not to mention snake-oil salesmen of the 19-th century. But, folks will believe what they WANT to believe, especially if it's presented in a way that seems only slightly-more than half-way plausible.
       Yes, we're gullible.  But we're also AWARE that we're gullible, and we've even turned this trait into entertainment.  Whether its the party game (or committee ice-breaker), "Two Truths and a Lie"*, or the television show so popular ("To Tell the Truth"**) it was produced and then re-produced decades later (not counting syndication), or the traveling "The Liar Show"***, the joy of lying, or, maybe more positively, of trying to ferret out the truth seems to grip us all.  And, certainly, detective "whodunits" play to this same desire: we want to know the truth from amongst a pack of lies, false truths, and red-herrings.  And, it's fun!  I don't deny, or discount it.  I love mysteries!
      The problem, it seems to me, is that, sometimes, we begin to believe our own fabrications.  We begin to lose sight of that which is really the case. We begin to believe the alternative view that WE may have constructed, even when we know it's false.  Then we get caught up in that alternative world, not recognizing (or caring about) the harm that "living" there may cause others.  For some, certainly, this might be traced to a psychological disorder. Others may use the "distancing form reality" as a means of keeping them from dealing with their own "issues":  "If I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist!".  It's a sort of psychological/theological equivalent of children sticking their fingers in their ears, singing, "Lalalalalalala", to keep from hearing that throwing the vase at the cat was not a good thing.
        So . . . gullibility is one side of the equation.  Self-delusion or self-deception, another.  Neither is particularly healthy for us.  I recall the psalmist's observation:  "While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, because of my groaning all day long . . . my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not conceal my guilt. I said, 'I will confess my trasngressions to the Lord.' Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin" (Ps. 32.3-5).  the implication is that honesty/confession brings release and renewal.  The same assertion is found in the New Testament:  "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (I John 1.8).****  Similar teachings can be found in all the religious traditions:  Be honest in your dealings with others, but also be honest in your dealings with yourself.
        Telling the truth may be difficult, but, given the world in which we live, we are NOT living in a game.
      

Blessings,

Gary

*  In the off chance you've not played this, instructions are here.
**  More information here
***  More information here.****  Commentator Ron Allen wrote concerning this verse:  "The community’s part is to confess sins, that is, to name and admit ways in which the members continue to live by the values of the world. To fail to do so is to lie, i.e. to perpetuate the values of the world in the community of Jesus. Indeed, to fail to confess is the same as treating God as if God is a liar."  [I would assert that the more general word "faith" could easily be substituted for "Jesus" in this context.]

Up the ante! Down with the anti-!

      Yesterday, we heard the horrifying news of the killing of 147 college students in Kenya.  Further reporting later in the day and this morning suggested that the majority of the students that the Al-Shabab militants singled out as hostages or for killing were Christians.  That is, their "crime" -- other than being Kenyan, since many Kenyan Muslim students were freed -- was their religious tradition.  The Somali Al-Shabab gunmen were, therefore, both anti-Kenyan and anti-Christian. We have recently heard similar stories coming out of other countries where religious extremism and political discontent have become potent allies in pressing a particular agenda.  The anti-[fill-in-the-blank] forces seem to be out in full.
      Sometime in the last couple of weeks I was listening to a radio discussion about whether anti-semitism was so on the rise in Europe that Jews would be better off, or safer, in some other country -- the U.S. and Israel were suggested as good examples  where their "safety" was better assured.  There was, of course, discussion as to the source of the anti-semitism:  was it related to increasing Muslim extremism in Europe?  Or was it related to a resurgence of Nazi-like thinking?  The experiences of Jews in Europe has been seen to be negative, however, regardless of the source. 
      Reporting out of Burma/Myanmar, on the other hand, indicates that the Rohingya Muslim minority is being persecuted by the Buddhist majority, sometimes quite violently.  Many of us can recall the horrific Christian massacres of Muslims in the Balkans several decades ago. But lest we think this is all somewhere "over there", we read, often enough, of anti-Muslim incidents in the US. The killing of three Muslim young people in Chapel Hill, NC a few weeks ago is just one example.
      So, within the span of about a week, I heard stories of "anti-Muslim" actions, "anti-Christian" actions, and "anti-Semitic" actions.  If I plug the words "persecution" and the name of any religion into a search engine, I can be assured of multiple results.  The same would be true, of course, if I substituted the names of ethnic or racial minorities for religious groups. As much as any group is persecuted, so are no groups free of being the persecutor.  We, as a species, seem hell-bent (and I use that word purposely) on being opposed to folks who are different from us.  If we can't find something obvious, we will manufacture some feature/belief that we can use to divide us from the "un-washed". And, once we've established the dividing line, we're not too far from setting up mechanisms to eliminate the opposition.
       I am not so naive to believe that there aren't some folks who pretty much ARE wrong, and who need to be corralled.  I would see various terrorist groups -- foreign and domestic -- as examples.  Those groups take an "oppositional attitude" and run amok with it.  Yet most opposition does not need to result in violent conflict; it can, sometimes, result in productive discussion and learning . . . if we are willing to allow for the possibility that we have something TO learn.
       Refusal to be taught is refusal to grow, a refusal to proceed, a refusal to progress. It is a choice to live in an "anti-world".  The challenge to us who think more positively is to up the ante, to live in a "pro-world", to learn and to teach that a peaceful future can be seen in the eyes and hearts of those who look different, and differently, than us.
      

Blessings,

Gary

How Important is Matching the Hatch?

       Last Saturday, I was standing in the Cache de Poudre River, northwest of Ft. Collins, engaging in that wonderfully frustrating past-time, "Fishing".  [Note:  I did not say "Catching"!]  I had spent the week prior brushing up on what to expect: what the weather might be, the water temperature and flows, and what kinds of bugs might be prevalent (i.e., what the menu might be on the trout smorgasbord).  It was a glorious day, and I was set!  The fish, on the other hand, had other ideas.
       One of my fellow-anglers was not experiencing the same level of frustration as I. And, so, as fisher-folk often do, I asked "What are you using?"  In other words, did he have the secret formula for a fly that, were I to use it, might result in MY success.  HIs answer didn't offer much help, as I was already using much the same thing . . . and I didn't have available to me the exact pattern that he was using.
       And so, as I stood in the river, I began musing on the strange business of fly-fishing and fly-tying.  One of the biggest pieces of advice assumed by all fly-anglers is that one needs to "match the hatch."  That is, if fish are feeding on a certain species of mayfly (because they seem to be "hatching" at that time), then they will probably not pay much attention to your offering of something resembling a stonefly.  Or even more frustrating is that they  might be feeding readily on a reddish bug, but ignore a black bug of the same style and size.
       So we embark on the quest for the right match.  Famous fly-tyers from across the years, and around the country, develop new patterns and tweak old ones in the pursuit of precisely replicating the legs, antennae, wings and tails of teeny little bugs.  One extra wrap of this wire.  Precise proportions of wing height to body length.  It's a quest for a Holy Grail!  And the funny thing is that almost ALL of those patterns will catch fish (well, except when they're on the end of MY fly-line!).  The correspondence between the actual bug and its replica doesn't have to be exact.
        Most anglers know the names of the afore-mentioned "famous fly-tiers".  We attend seminars given by them, hoping to learn the tricks and techniques that will improve our art.  We recognize that some of their patterns will work better in some parts of the country than in others.  They've learned on different waters, with slightly different insect populations.  they may have affinity for different materials; "natural vs. synthetic" is one hot argument.
        As Saturday wore on, and the times I changed flies increased, I began to see the whole enterprise in theological, or religious, terms.  Or, perhaps, to turn it around, I began to think about our religious longings in the same light as the longing for the "perfect fly".  If we get the ritual right; if we say the right words; follow the right theologians; if we understand the Divine in the right way; if we do all of these things correctly, then maybe, just maybe, we'll have that life-altering encounter with our quarry.  And I suppose this makes some sense.
        On the other hand, there were many of us in the river last Saturday; the parking lot was FULL, and each vehicle usually carried more than one person.  We were all in the pursuit of the same goal.  And, I dare say, few of us had exactly the same flies at the ends of our lines.  But most were successful in the encounter.  And, almost to an angler, we rejoiced with their success, not spending time arguing that THEIR flies and technique (which actually worked) were the WRONG ones.
        I learn a lot from fishing.

Blessings,

Gary

If you build it, they will come!

     About this time of year, in 2005, I was training to ride my bike 585 miles from San Francisco to Los Angeles.  I had signed up for the AIDS Lifecycle 4, pledging not only to ride my bike a bunch of miles, but also to raise a bunch of money -- all in support of AIDS research.  Fortunately, I was successful on both counts, thanks to the help to MANY people, before and during the ride.
      I didn't really have much of an idea of what I was getting into in some respects. I knew that there was going to be a lot of hard work; that was a given. I knew that we would be setting up and taking down tents every day and packing our gear into trucks. I knew that my main responsibility was getting from one campsite to the next, preferably without falling/crashing/"bonking" (basically running out of steam). But I had no way of knowing how the 1600 riders and 400 "roadies" would form an instant community.      We were of many ages. There was one girl I remember who missed her high school graduation because she was riding. I remember one man who was in his 70's.  We were from all over the United States and beyond. Ethnic diversity! Gay and straight. Very healthy folks as well as riders who were HIV positive (they rode with orange flags on their bikes -- the "Positive Pedalers"). Many experienced cyclists, and many who rode their first century (100 miles in one day) on the third day of the ride.      As we cycled, we talked with folks we'd never met prior to that encounter on the road. "On your left" (the shout letting riders know that someone was passing them) may be the only human voice we'd hear for a while. But, if someone had a flat or other mechanical malfunction, there would immediately be a group who'd stop and help get that rider going again.      It was an entire society created within and for the week. We were all committed to the same overall cause, as well as the immediate goal(s):  completing the ride, both for the day, and the week. We suspended many "normal" rules of interaction, rules of separation. Pretty much NOTHING was more important than all of us reaching Los Angeles and celebrating our common achievement.      We built that alternate society that week.  Certainly, since it was AIDS LIfeCycle 4, there had been several prior events, and for many riders/roadies, the 2005 ride wasn't their first.  They had begun the building of that society and I had witnessed it in the late 90's while on vacation in Santa Barbara.  I knew then that I wanted to be part of that "world"; in 2005 it happened.
      We can build an alternative world to that in which we live.  I work with students who are committed to world where religious differences are real, but that are not divisive.  They embody that belief and attract others to their events.  I would like to think that many of us are tired, tired, tired, of all of the discord and ready to move forward.  Certainly these students are.  They are building; may we all.


Blessings,
Gary


PS:  For more information about the AIDS LifeCycle, surf on over to: http://www.aidslifecycle.org.