And that's so you'll remember it!

    In the 2005 Ridley Scott movie, "Kingdom of Heaven" (a film about the 12th-century capture of Jerusalem by Salahadin) Godfrey of Ibelin (played by Liam Neeson) gives the knight's charge and yields his title to Balian his son (Orlando Bloom), with the words:

Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. That is your oath.

And then Godfrey strikes Balian's face with the back of his hand, and says, "And that's so you remember it."  Later in the movie, Balian gives the same charge to others, with great effect.  For all who received the charge, and the slap, arose with new intentionality and inner strength.

      I recalled those scenes this past Tuesday when I and dozens of other Episcopal clergy stood before the Episcopal bishop of Colorado and re-affirmed the vows we made when we were ordained to serve God,  the church and the world.  It is always a powerful ceremony, a vivid reminder of promises I made some twenty years ago (although there was no slapping!).  I am invited to recall what it was that led, that motivated, me to take on such a role.  I always leave the service re-charged, re-invigorated, re-empowered.

      And I got to wondering how often we are invited to re-visit our initial passions.  I often suspect, when I stand before a couple who are vowing to spend the rest of their lives together, that very few will ever repeat those vows (although they may look at their wedding albums or videos).  How many will stand before friends and family (including, perhaps, their children) and renew the vows they made?  It's a ceremony that is possible in many traditions.  How many avail themselves of it?

       But what of other pledges/vows we make?  Do we go back and revisit them?  Do we go back and re-commit ourselves to them?  A case in point are the "Honor Codes" that students and other universities sign upon their entrance to the school.  While, at DU, banners (with the signatures of new students) hang in the student center, do students look for their names on those banners and say, "I remember signing that!  I re-commit myself to that Code!"

       So many commitments we make, to so many things, entirely positive (at the time) that we'll never renege on those vows.  But, of course, making so many, we often forget what we've promised.  Or we become a bit fuzzy on the precise content of the pledges.  Or we pledge only in order to "join the club", not even certain we'll ever consistently honor the promise.  Initial passion/drive can often get lost when the difficulties of life, school or politics intervene.  As we've seen played in the lives of public figures such as athletes or politicians -- the lure of power or money overwhelms whatever initial, more noble, purpose may have gotten them to positions of prominence in the first place.

       I'm reminded that, in a box in the basement, I have recordings (cassette tapes -- anyone remember those????) of both my wedding and my ordination.  Maybe it's time to pull them out and give them a listen (yes, I still have a cassette player!) as well as to look at the photos of both major events.  They certainly remain in my memory, but reminders through hearing and seeing?  Maybe I'll remember other reasons I made those vows -- as well as other passions and commitments they implied! 

      What other reminders, whether symbolic (like a slap) or real (like photos) do we have for significant commitments we've made?  To teaching?  To advising?  To whatever life-path, or vocation, we've chosen?  No answers; only questions.  How will we remember them?

Blessings,

Gary

Getting Your Hands Dirty

Almost a year ago, I wrote about the phenomenon of the "Nones", those people who claim no specific religious affiliation.  The percentage of Americans who "check the box" is about 20% of the population; that number, among young adults might be closer to 30%.  This increase in the non-affiliated has caused no end of hand-wringing among religious leaders who are wondering what can be done to attract the dis-affected.  In the same reflection, I connected the the phenomenon of the "Nones" with that of the "Nuns" (on a bus).  I wondered, about both groups, what was their attitude towards authority, since both seemed to chafe (not necessarily unreasonably) against power structures.
With the election of Pope Francis, both groups--the "Nones" and the nuns--have regained some attention.  Many Roman Catholic sisters (i.e., nuns) in the United States, having been under scrutiny over the last year for allegedly espousing ideas that run counter to official teaching.  These nuns have taken some hope in Francis' clear concern for the poor, imagining that he might understand their work a little better than his predecessor.  The others, the "Nones", received special mention in an address to leaders from many religious traditions this last Wednesday, when he "reached out to those who don't belong 'to any religious tradition' but feel the 'need to search for the truth, the goodness and the beauty of God."  He added that this last group (as well as atheists) "can be 'precious allies' in their efforts 'to defend the dignity of man, in the building of a peaceful coexistence between people and in the careful protection of creation."*
In other words, the Pope was appealing for people of whatever religious stripe to 'get their hands' dirty in some common work.
All of this attention to the Nones comes at the same time that several folks seem to be revisiting Christian Smith's characterization of the dominant form of religiosity among young adults as "Therapeutic Moralistic Deism" (MTD) -- which is a "system" evident among the "Nones".  In a survey of some 3000 young people, Smith and his co-author Melinda Denton condensed the religious beliefs of these folks to five premises:

• A god exists who created and ordered the world and watches over human life on earth.
• God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
• The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.
• God does not need to be particularly involved in one's life except when God is needed to resolve a problem.
• Good people go to heaven when they die.**

Smith and Denton have come under some criticism for this characterization on a couple of counts.  A former Duke classmate of mine, Diana Butler Bass, has entertained quite a discussion on this at her Facebook page, and she criticizes some of the assumptions behind the MTD ascription, as well as the terminology (e.g., "What's wrong with 'therapeutic'?" or "What's wrong with 'morals'?")  Having read her critique of the characterization, as well as many other thinkers' critique of the phenomenon, I can certainly see the arguments on all sides.
That said, however, it does not take a particularly careful reading of the five elements of the "creed" to see that 'getting one's hands dirty' isn't necessarily a part of it.  I think that there's a difference between being "good, nice and fair to each other" and doing the hard work that builds a just society.  "Feeling good about oneself" doesn't translate into helping those in dire straits to feel good about themselves.
I agree with the Pope that people of good-will, from every religious (and no-religious) might be allies.  I wish him well, however, in mobilizing all of those folk -- especially those who we may have led to believe that religion or spirituality is all about "me" and not about "we".  The Nuns certainly know this; let's hope that the "Nones" will as well.  For it's on behalf of the "we" that we'll need to get our hands dirty.

Blessings,

Gary

*  http://www.religionnews.com/2013/03/20/pope-francis-says-atheists-can-be-allies-for-the-church/
**Smith, Christian with Melinda Lundquist Denton, Soul Searching:  The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers (Oxford, 2005), 162-63.

Looking both ways

       Momentous events this week! 

      Habemus papam! As the news of the election of Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Argentina as the next pope traveled across the internet, I must say I was amused by all of my Facebook friends who are Protestant trumpeting the news: "We have a pope!" I thought, "Wait a minute. Didn't y'all separate from Rome several hundred years ago BECAUSE of the Pope? And now he's YOUR pope?" Indeed, in one of the early Church of England litanies, one stanza read: "From all sedition and privy conspiracy, from the tyranny of the Bishop of Rome and all his detestable enormities, from all false doctrine and heresy, from hardness of heart and contempt of thy word and commandment. Good lord, deliver us" (1552 Book of Common Prayer). This stanza was quickly changed (thankfully!), and didn't appear in the 1559 prayer book.
       We've clearly come a long way in four hundred and sixty years! The election of a non-European as pope is one signal of change. The election of a Jesuit as pope is another. Cardinal Bergoglio's choice of "Francis" as his papal names is still another. Many within, and without, the Roman Catholic Church are hoping that this new Pope will bring a new vision and vigor to the Church. Those of us non-Roman Catholics recognize the influence the Pope has throughout the world, and are equally hopeful for continued improvement of relations between the Romand Catholic Church and the world's other religious traditions. When Pope Benedict XVI announced his resignation, the world saw that ending as presaging a new beginning; Pope Francis I bears those expectations.
        Momentous as well, but in a smaller way, was the ending of Winter Quarter at DU. Wednesday was the last official day of classes; I'll have final papers to start grading tomorrow afternoon. One student posted to her Facebook page something to the effect that now that fingers are done with finals, what do they do now? The ending presages a beginning. What is done is done. The quarter is in the past. Ahead, for some, is a break and then another quarter -- perhaps the last of college? For fewer, this week contained their last collegiate class; ahead is a job or graduate school or . . . New beginnings.
        And today, March 15, aside from being the Ides of March, is also "Match Day" when medical school graduates learn of their next stage: a training position at a teaching hospital. I was pleased to learn that a 2008 DU graduate I know will be headed off to be a pediatrician on the East Coast! An exciting new beginning, that, I imagine, makes all those long hours studying and doing rotations worthwhile. One ending, another beginning!

       The Roman god Janus, pictured above, looks both ways.  He was the god of beginnings and transitions, found in doorways and gates.  He looks to the future and the past.  He served as a reminder that time is fluid, and that we keep on moving.  Associating a god with transitions places all of that movement, all of our time, in the context of the divine.  I would imagine that most of us, whatever our religious tradition, would do the same.  We can sense the Presence in the events that have brought us thus far; we have hope that that Presence will accompany us as we move on.

        May we be led to a future that satisfies and delights us!

Blessings,

Gary

There must be one more truth.

      In that amazing piece of 1970's theological and cultural reflection, "Jesus Christ Superstar," Jesus stands before Pilate. In his 'defense' before the Roman governor, Jesus claims that "I look for truth and find that I get damned." Pilate responds "What is truth? Is truth unchanging law? We both have truths. Are mine the same as yours? And, certainly, whenever I recall that, I remember the story of the blind men and the elephant, each describing their 'truth' about the elephant ("Its's a rope." "It's a tree." etc.), none of them, of course, getting the thing completely right.
       Last evening, I was participating on a panel at a local private elementary school. The panelists were responding to questions from parents, provoked by viewing a documentary called "Anyone and Everyone". The documentary recounts the stories of several families from around the country, of various ethnicities and religious backgrounds, all of whom had to come to grips with their son or daughter coming out as a homosexual. One of the moms, a Mormon, talked about the "truths" that she had been taught by her church, and how those were confronted by the "truth" of her son's orientation. She said to the camera something to the effect that "When the truth you've learned doesn't square with reality, there must be one more truth."
       That phrase, "There must be one more truth . . ." has wormed its way into me over the last several hours. But it is really nothing less than a statement of my experience. The number of times I've anticipated an appointment, being absolutely certain of the expected reason, and then being surprised either by "factual" or emotional content is astounding . . . and humbling.
       Earlier this week, I spent several days at a workshop on a particular application ofAppreciative Inquiry. For those readers who are unfamiliar with AI, it is methodology for managing change (in an organization or group or individual), based on what good things, or strengths, already exist in the organization/group/individual. In other words, it's not about "problem solving", but rather strengths-maximization. And one of the means used to determine those strengths is through story-telling. So we told each other a lot of stories and, listening to those stories -- even on different topics, told by different people -- I was mesmerized by the variety of experiences, the variety of realities, the varieties of "truth" that came out. And, in having people listen to me, I was equally surprised that, in their reflections on MY story, they recognized an entirely different "truth" than I intended. Their perspective and mine, put together, created a much richer picture than either of ours separately.
       My story, my truth, isn't the only one. I regularly make it practice to put my story in conversation with a larger one, whether it be scripture or poetry or a scientific article. I generally come away changed. That's my hope, at least, when I encounter yet one more truth.

 

Blessings,

Gary

A Visible Means fo Support?

      For Theravada Buddhists, last Monday (Feb 25) was "Magha", "Magha Puja"or "Sangha Day".   While often seen as referring to the community of Buddhist monks and nuns (i.e., the Sangha), it has, in many places, been extended to refer to a more broad, inclusive, community.  At root, however, "sangha" refers to a community of wisdom (indeed those who've achieved enlightenment), and Sangha Day is a day when Buddhists reaffirm their commitment to Buddhist practices and beliefs.  While the search for enlightenment is primarily a solitary undertaking, Buddhists recognize that the support of a community of wisdom is essential.
       The notion of community is central to most religions, and is manifested in different ways. Corporate prayers for Muslims features people standing side-by-side, shoulders touching: the community manifest.  Among Jews, public prayer requires a minyan, ten adults,* in order to be valid.  Early Christians (and their heirs) put a high value on "the apostle's teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread, and the prayers" (Acts 2.42).  Even in those traditions in which monastic, or, more particularly, solitary monastic life is practiced, the monks and nuns often return to be together for mutual support and encouragement.
        As someone who listens to students during their first few weeks and months away from home, one of the things I (and other counselors) hear are accounts of loneliness; students miss their friends, their home.  They haven't yet found a community that can replace that of their past.  In most cases they will, of course, but the gut-wrenching feeling of loneliness speaks to the importance of community, especially during times of transition and disruption (as the move to college, or any relocation represents).
       We recognize that our mobile society almost guarantees that friends will move away. Medical advances have lengthened some of our lives, one of the consequences of which is that we lose friends through death with fewer peers to replace them.  All of this translates into a loss, one which some of us feel more acutely than others.  Our supports are gone.  I doubt that most of us who are Facebook users would count our "friends" as an adequate substitute for real community.  Yet we all are finding ourselves in an increasingly fragmented world, and such "social networks" provide a great way to stay connected.  But is "connection" all we need?
      Every so often, I take a break and muse on what/who are my visible means of support. With whom do I share joys, sorrows, questions, dreams?  With whom do I link arms in solidarity?  With whom do I play, or just "chill"?  Such stock-taking often leads me in new directions; it also leads to me to a greater appreciation of what I have.  Existing supports and new supports, together, provide a firm foundation for continued growth and hope.  May we all seek and find wise companions, and communities, that support, challenge and delight us!

Blessings,

Gary

*  For some Jews, the "ten" must be adult males; for others, the minyan can consist of both adult men and women.