by David Henson

Don’t forget to feast this Lent.

In the midst of the almsgiving, praying and fasting that traditionally mark this season, remember also to feast.

But only on Sundays.

For Christians, every Sunday is a feast day, and fasting is forbidden at a feast. And, it would be downright rude — to the host, to others at the feast, and to yourself — to fast in the midst of a feast.

Of course, feasting isn’t the first thought that comes to mind in Lent, especially in the popular imagination. But, in many ways, it is the most important part.

Some Christians tend to think of Lent only in terms of deprivation, discipline and rigorous religiosity. Others might malign it as encouraging a kind of mind-body dualism in which the body is battered into submission or the spirit edified at the expense of the repression of the body. Others have criticized Lent, explaining they don’t need the Church to dictate a special season for them to draw close to God.

These criticisms tend to forget about that one critical element: the Lenten feast.

Now, before anyone protests, the feasts of Lent are certainly on the more somber side of things, with all the minor chords and buried Alleluias. But the Sundays during Lent are still celebrations. The Eucharist is never a dirge. It is always a celebration and not just of God’s love and of Jesus’ life. It is also a celebration of our participation in that divine mystery. It is an invitation to a party in which we can touch the hem of divinity — and sometimes more. It is an embodied celebration and a celebration of bodies, particularly God’s own body.

So how can we experience God on Sunday in the Eucharist and taste God’s radical love and acceptance of us, and go back immediately to fasting? We can’t.

That’s why Sundays are for feasting.

They are feasts of love.

For many, feasting is synonymous with gluttony and overeating. But a Lenten feast isn’t simply about warming up the leftovers from Fat Tuesday and eating of a fast’s forbidden fruit. Nor is it a matter of discovering and exploiting with mischievous glee the great Lenten Loophole. Feasting in Lent reminds us that as people of faith a feast isn’t about eating all the pancakes, or chocolate, or potatoes and bread, and it isn’t about spending all day amusing ourselves to death.

Bingeing, no matter what our obsessive-consumptive society tells us, is not feasting.

In a season in which we rightfully deprive ourselves of one of the thousands of luxuries at our fingertips, feasting on Sundays in Lent reminds us that joy and happiness are centered in something deeper than distractions and fatty foods. It reminds us that, as citizens of the world’s wealthiest country, we use the luxuries of life to placate our desires rather than understand them, to numb our humanity rather than live into it, to suppress our hunger and thirst for justice rather than feast upon it.

Feasting in Lent is a unique journey all its own, one often neglected theologically. Lenten feasts invite us to discover how to celebrate life without subduing our bodies with luxuries. They offer us a chance to discover what a true feast is, embodied not by overeating and hoarding but by sharing and sacrifice, enacted not by consuming as much as we can in a day but enacted by a community that gathers and believes, against all evidence to the contrary, that Jubilee exists and the arc of the universe bends towards justice.

That’s why Sundays are for feasting.

They are feasts of faith.

Indeed, isn’t this the point of any Sunday feast? To imagine a world where Jubilee happens: where debts are forgiven, where oppression is ended, where liberation is won? Isn’t this the feast of a Sunday: To believe, if only for the few seconds when the bread and wine hit our lips, that God’s Reign of Love exists and we are its agents in the world? Isn’t this the feast of a Sunday, to glimpse the potential of our humanity as God’s holy agents, entrusted with the great commission of bringing God’s divine Jubilee to earth as it is in heaven?

A Lenten feast is one that celebrates our bodies by seeing them as tov — good, divine, creative. It is an embodied feast in which our bodies are not vehicles for pleasure, or exploitation, or oppression, or money-making, or objectification, but bodies that exists simply because they are good, and, if we have eyes to see them, divine images of love in a world given to hate. A Lenten feast celebrates the future, a future in which we boldly proclaim our agency, our creativity and our independence from the evil we do to ourselves, the evil we do to others and the evil done on our behalf.

A Lenten feast calls us to reclaim our bodies from a world that twists them, makes us feel naked and ashamed for them, turns them into gears for war machines and profit and abuse. A Lenten feast calls us to embody God in the world, because it is only through our bodies that the world can change. A Lenten feast helps us to see the Promised Land in the middle of dry and thirsting land.

That’s why Sundays are for feasting.

They are feasts of hope.

Perhaps, when the 40 days of fasting are finished, the greatest lesson to learn from a holy Lent is how to feast.

 

by Rand Walker

Turkeys are considered the essence of ineptness and stupidity. Perhaps they are categorized unfairly, but nonetheless, the word “turkey” carries negative connotations when it refers to certain people or undesirable events in our lives. Sometimes, we invite turkeys into our lives; other times, they show up unannounced or are driven into our space by something or someone else. This is a true anecdote about such as incident in my life a few weeks ago.

Some background is needed to set the scene. I live in a rural area that seems like a wildlife reserve at times. It is not unusual to see deer by the dozens grazing in the front yard or to hear hawks screaming overhead because they are being dive-bombed and aggravated by crows, or they are circling slowly, hunting for prey. Coyotes howling at night are a normal occurrence, but they have been heard howling before sunset, their otherworldly yelps and chortles growing closer together as two of them locate each other. Hence, turkeys wandering through the yard or in the woods just feet from my house are considered normal and part of the territory.

A nearby neighbor has a dog named, Joe. He is a German Shepherd/Border Collie mix who wandered up when he was a puppy more than five years ago. His pleasant, friendly nature endears him to us, so we feed him at my house, and he stops by on his rounds to visit. One peculiar thing about Joe is that he is very reluctant to enter the house, even the sunroom. Why this is important will become clear, later.

There is an 18’ by 12’ sunroom attached to the rear of my house with glass doors and panels around three sides. The doors can be opened and the screens slid into place. It was a sunny, quiet mid-spring Sunday evening, and two of the sunroom doors were opened with the screens in place. I have a cat, Missy, who is very skittish, and she was curled up on the loveseat in the sunroom, napping like most cats do during the day. I was in my recliner in the living room, reading a book. The door between the sunroom and the kitchen was open. Basking in the quiet and the solitude, I was engrossed in my book when suddenly, I heard a loud sound that had the qualities of both a thud and a crash, followed by the cat’s claws scratching for traction as she hastily made her exit from the sunroom, down the corridor to the basement steps, and into the basement. My first thought was, What the hell has that cat knocked over?  She likes to climb, and there is a bar-height table in the corner of the room along with a couple of lamps and plant stands scattered around the room. I laid my book to the side and rose from the recliner, reluctantly, and walked through the kitchen toward the open door to the sunroom. I was not prepared for what I saw.

Standing in the sunroom mere feet away, looking frightened and startled, was a huge tom turkey (This means a male turkey for you city people). He was a very large turkey: I would guesstimate around 30 pounds or better; his head came up to my chest, and I am about 6-feet-tall. What a beautiful creature. A beard (loose skin beneath his beak) hung down his neck at least 8 inches or more. I would have had difficulty closing my hand around his head if I had wanted to. His legs were long and spindly, but his feet were two-thirds the size of my hands with claws at least 3 inches long. His head, neck, legs, and feet were a composite of bright blues, reds, and pinks. He was frozen in position, his wings slightly spread, his head drawn back and cocked to the side just enough to focus on me standing in the doorway, with a look of disbelief and startled much like the poor turkey.

Our stare-down lasted only seconds, but it felt like minutes to me. My brain was not fully convinced my eyes were working properly. Then my attention was slowly drawn to Joe, standing just outside the door of the sunroom in the backyard. He looked as if he was smiling, his tail wagging, as if to say, “Look what I brought you.” Keeping the frozen and obviously-scared turkey in my vision field, I let my eyes wander to the right where the screen mesh, once tightly fitted in the door frame, was hanging loose. Apparently, Joe had come upon the turkey, somewhere, and chased him into the corner where one wall of the sunroom and the exterior house wall meet. Cornered, the turkey had run through the screen, busting it loose from the retaining channel, and he had stormed into the sunroom. The poor cat was scrambling for her life because she wanted nothing to do with a bird the size of that turkey. In other words, he was bigger than any “tweety bird” she had ever seen!

The turkey began to recover from his immobile state, and he was now running toward the other screen and the glass panels. I knew I had to remove him from the sunroom before he damaged more than he already had. But his size and his claws deterred me from wrangling him like livestock, so I backed up slowly and closed the door between the kitchen and the sunroom. Then I went out the front door and came around to the sunroom. Naturally, Joe took up his position on the opposite side of the sunroom waiting for the turkey to move toward him, back through the already damaged screen. The turkey was starting to panic even more, and I was expecting him to run through the other screen or turn furniture and fixtures over as he struggled to find an escape route.

Finally, I opened the screen door opposite the one he came through, and moved away from the door into the backyard. The turkey watched me move away, took one last look at Joe, put his head forward and down, and bolted through the open door. I did not realize how fast a turkey could run! He ran the 20 feet or so into the woods and over a small embankment, and I thought he had made his escape; when suddenly, Joe streaked by me and dove over the embankment where the turkey had disappeared. I had forgotten how fast he could move! The turkey began to vocalize now, and unfortunately, Joe killed the turkey. It appeared that Joe was acting on his herding instincts since he is part Border Collie, but he would not let the turkey escape until the turkey eventually died of exhaustion. I was not very happy about this turn of events, because I did not want the turkey to be harmed. But dogs will be dogs, and turkeys will be turkeys.

What are the moral implications of this story? When turkeys appear in your life, whether you let them in, or they are driven into your space by other forces, don’t panic and make things worse. Calmly assess the situation, compartmentalize and isolate the turkey, and provide an escape route; then move out of the turkey’s way!

 

by Randy Walker

If you think your way is the only way, you might be “stuck in the details.” If you belittle those who do not look like you, act like you, or think like you, you might be “stuck in the details.” If dogma rules your life, you might be “stuck in the details.”

First, what is meant by the idiom, “stuck in the details”? Has anyone encountered someone who is obsessive-compulsive over certain things in his or her life? This person becomes consumed with a minute detail, or details, that have little impact on the person’s quality of life, and in doing so, misses the “big picture,” or the things that do matter and affect the quality of life or the outcome of something in particular. I once worked for someone who displayed this quirk to the extreme. He and I worked in construction. This man would obsess over visible brush strokes left on a painted surface, imperfections in trim molding, or other minor blemishes to the point that he would miss obvious things, such as a missing storm door, blatant damage to an outside wall or other similar but what should be easily detected flaws. In other words, he was “stuck in the details,” and he missed the “big picture.”

I believe it is easy for many people to do, essentially, the same thing when it comes to religion or worldviews. To me, religious dogma is an example of details, and people tend to focus on dogmatic “details” and miss the more crucial “big picture.” Stated another way: the doctrine and the rules included in the dogma become more important to some people than how they view and treat people they encounter. They will argue, vehemently, about a minute point of doctrine and proclaim that if other people do not believe just as they do, such people are inferior, hell-bound, unfit, outcast, ex-communicated... the list goes on.

Secondly, what is the “big picture” when it comes to religion and worldviews? A brief discussion about the underlying principles of some of the major religions in the world will lead to this answer. The chosen religions are Christianity, Buddhism, and Islam. Christianity is the most popular based on the number of adherents, while Islam is number two, and Buddhism is number six.

Buddhism focuses on four primary qualities as its foundational practices: loving kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Islam uses several words to denote different shades of the meaning of “love.” One of these terms appears about once every 15 verses within the Koran. These are only two examples, but the other major religions have similar underlying principles to these two religions.

Another question is what kind of love is being discussed here? In Christianity and in the English language, there are two Greek words that denote two types of love: eros and agape. Eros love denotes individual love that is considered conditional and often rooted in sexual desire, while agape love is considered unconditional love that is godly and holistic. Another way to state this is that eros love equates with casual concern and sexual infatuation, while agape love means loving someone or something despite the inherent flaws in the person or the object receiving the love. This discussion focuses on agape love. 

Since it has been established that the major religions of the world, which clearly include Christianity, have essentially the same underlying principles based on agape love, let’s look at what the Bible says about love. I John 4:8 reads: “He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.” For the benefit of the fundamentalists who might be reading this, I quoted the King James Version of the Bible. Also, for the benefit of the fundamentalists and those who believe that the Bible should be taken literally, word-for-word, nothing added, nothing taken away, let’s break the language down in this verse. It does not say that God “loves,” nor does it say that God is “capable of love,” or anything similar in meaning to these phrases. It emphatically and clearly states: “God IS love.” “Is” is what is often referred to as a “linking verb” in the English language. In other words, it “links” a noun with an adjective, adverb, or another noun. In this case, it links “God” with “love.” “Is” means that the noun, “God,” is one and the same as the noun, “love.”

Seems simple to me: God IS NOT some mystical all-powerful being who happens to love, God IS love, period--the end--no more to the story.

Think about the implications of this: If we immerse ourselves in agape love for ourselves and others, then we “know God.” Who, by the way, IS love. The remaining “fluff” is mere “details” that, while people with good intentions adhere to them, are just details used to torment those who are “stuck in them,” and anyone around those “dear stuck ones” who is affected or offended by those same details.

Now, in order not to discriminate against any one religion, let’s take each one and give an example of someone who is “stuck in the details.” For instance, if a Buddhist insists that someone will not achieve enlightenment unless he or she meditates a particular way and a specific amount of time each day, this person is “stuck in the details.” There is nothing wrong with meditation, but it does not, directly and solely, determine the outcome of a person’s life.

We all witnessed a fanatical fringe of Islam on 9/11. How anyone can believe that murdering innocent people will bring them special rewards in an afterlife is beyond my comprehension, but those misguided terrorists were so “stuck in the details” that they highjacked and flew commercial airliners, with innocent people aboard, into buildings, which contained more innocent people! This is an extreme example, but think about all the hatred, bitterness, and most importantly, fear, these heinous acts triggered in the world. No matter how much this event is analyzed, it happened because a few fanatics became “stuck in the details.”

Finally, when Christians exclude other people and dismiss them as sinners, who are unworthy of love, just because they do not believe in the virgin birth and divinity of Jesus, or do not attend church, or do not read the Bible daily, do not pray often enough, do not love someone of the opposite sex--and so on, they are “stuck in the details” and missing the “big picture.”

The following quote is attributed to the late Jimi Hendrix: “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” Let’s substitute “God” for “love” and see what we have: “When the power of “God” (Who IS love) overcomes the “God” of power, the world will know peace.”

Another way to state this: When we focus on loving one another instead of controlling one another with what we see as essential “details,” the world will know peace. The sad thing is that clinging to details and claiming to know the answers is, too often, rooted in fear, and the one thing that overcomes fear is “love.” This, my friends, is the big picture. I sincerely believe that if more of us could become “unstuck from the details,” the big picture would start to sharpen and come into focus.

“God is Love.”

 

by Peggy Beatty

In the movie, The Matrix, Neo can take a blue pill that allows him to live every day in bliss, but the trade off is that he gives up his autonomy and control to an unknown force that renders him a mindless slave - happy, but mindless. Or he can take the red pill which will afford him to learn the truth about himself. He will understand the forces that control him and learn to gain freedom from them, but at a steep price. The road will be hard; he will enter into dark places of His weakness: shame, guilt, neediness, greed, jealousy, fear. But he will learn to sculpt away these castings, these disguises of the true divine Self and realize that they must be held in paradoxical tension with all that is good and pure and true. The journey will reveal the truth and the truth will guide the journey. He will discover the essence of who he is. He will become his most authentic self. Happiness will look more like self-acceptance and deep joy, and Neo will be the Hero of his own life. This is how a book I am reading, called The Steps of Essence, by Hanns-Oskar Porr, describes the first call to becoming who you truly are: the choice of pills, blue or red.

I was intrigued with this because I think I missed this point in the movie. Or maybe not – it has been awhile since I saw The Matrix, but I am familiar with the choices that the pills afford. So, the first step is to say, “ok I am willing to take the hard road.” But here’s the catch, everyday you get the pill choice again: Will you choose to wait for happiness to present itself to you, to be a victim of life, a sort of bystander to your own existence? Or will you choose to to be the Hero of your life, to confront your fear, put aside some of those things you think you "need," and ride the wonderful experience of your true Self? The choice to hold the tension between what should and should not be is the demand of truly living YOUR [authentic] life.

At my niece’s graduation, the priest gave a sermon on "The Road Ahead" for the grads. He said that Jesus would ask them at every turn, “Do you love me?” To answer to this question, we must make the choice of pills. If we answer yes, we take the red pill. We agree to be Christ-like in love which is to love ferociously, and, yes, to suffer for it. To love is to be vulnerable. It is to bear all the sweet goodness of your divine Self to the other, with no defense; to be completely compassionate. The red pill requires us to be loyal to truth, above all else. And the truth is, Love is who we are! Every day we are faced with the choice to be either authentic or robotic. Every day we choose to take the high road or the low. Everyday we can allow the circumstances of life to control us, or we can choose our destiny. To know ourselves as love requires incredible courage and strength. To remain positive, optimistic, “happy” requires us to be a warrior for love and kindness, even at those times when we would rather not be. To truly live into love, which is our authentic nature, is to encounter hurt, absorb it and love harder.

We can run from the demands of life and relationship and never know who we are, or we can meet life head on with the Wisdom (yes, this choice is a wisdom choice) that happiness means more than just getting what I want. Which pill will you take?


Originally posted on "Ecumenicus."

by Mark Sandlin and the Admin Team of "The God Article."


“Being a slave to your own truth,” might be one reasonable way to define extreme fundamentalism.

On September 22nd two years ago, CNN ran an investigative report titled “Ungodly Discipline.” It takes a look at a history of biblically “justified” abuse in one specific school. It would be easy to walk away from the report and think it's nothing more than a he-said/she-said piece on spanking in schools. It is so much more than that.

It points to the dangers of fundamentalism. These children were not just spanked, they were abused. People who presumably loved them, hurt them. They justified it using the Bible. Fundamentalism frequently requires a devotion which is so blind that its adherents find they are nothing more than pawns in a game whose only purpose is to keep the game going. They are slaves to their own truths.

My heart goes out to each child who has grown up in this church and school. I have little doubt that some of them have escaped it relatively unscathed, but I know without any doubt that many have been wounded deeply.

The school is Fairhaven Baptist Academy which is associated with Fairhaven Independent Baptist Church and Fairhaven Baptist College in Indiana. Their founder is Pastor Roger Voegtlin. His two adpoted children are among those who were abused and they are speaking out about it.

Pastor Voegtlin's adopted son, Frank Voegtlin, contributed the following introduction to the CNN video for this article. In part, it explains why I believe it is still important to continue to tell their story.

The whole Admin Team at "The God Article" feels very strongly about the dangers of fundamentalism. When it impacts children, we are doubly upset. Fairview Baptist Church and its associated schools are simply one example of how damaging it can be. 

Each team member here has a particular point of view (POV), from Agnostic to Spiritual But Not Religious. We've decided to give a response to this video and fundamentalism from each POV.

Trista Lee Hendren Løberg; POV: Spiritual Womanist: The last thing in the world I ever want my children to be is fearful or obedient. One of the most important components missing from American society today is creativity. Many say we do not know how we will someday fill those gaps. Although my family was never abusive and my father is a kind-hearted man, the ideals of authority that I grew up with in a fundamentalist Christian church took me a long time to grow out of.

It is hard to imagine Jesus feeling pleased with what has become of some churches, including this one. I see this stemming from extreme patriarchy: resorting to male-only leadership through violence, which instills prescribed values of conformity and winning at all costs.

Fear and abuse do not bring out the best in people. Blame, shame and humiliation don’t either. Love does. When you equate punishment with love, there is no way for that not to be confusing for a child. You are teaching contradiction, not faith. Faith is about believing in God as you understand Her. Faith is believing in the innate goodness of children, knowing that you have an opportunity to bring out the absolute best in them. 

Children are not born depraved: they are born whole and complete. Happenstance is what taints our lives. Our job as parents, teachers and spiritual leaders is to guide kids to their higher selves. While we all will have tragedies in our life that we have to overcome, any adult who purposely causes a child pain, whether it be through neglect or abuse, is not worthy of being in the company of children.

Timothy W. Hooker; POV: Buddhist: My response to the video is in two stages.

First, having been raised in a fundamentalist environment, I completely believe and sympathize with the survivors who have come forward. My smart-aleck response to the fundamentalist world-view is that “fundies have the best ids.” But, even that points toward a paradigm within fundamentalism that sees everyone as ultimately depraved worthless pond scum that is deserving of the worst that life can throw at them. Ironically, once fundamentalists have convinced themselves that they are on God’s True Path, they assume a self-righteousness that is unassailable. I know plenty of fundamentalists who would be unable to name a single sin they’ve committed in the last forty years. As such, their piety becomes a poor man’s riches. They may have nothing of material value in this world, but their self-righteousness gives them the license to look down their noses at the rest of the world, just like the rich have always looked down on them.

For a more thorough discussion of fundamentalism, I would recommend the book entitled The Fundamentalist Mindset by Charles B. Strozier, David M. Terman, and James W. Jones (Oxford University Press). It is a group of psychologists looking at fundamentalism as mental illness.

From a Buddhist perspective, fundamentalism completely misses the role of humans in the world. Buddhism stresses the social equality of all humans; there are no Big I’s and Little You’s in Buddhism. We’re all on equal footing. The other Buddhist principle that immediately comes to mind is that I am as deserving of love and compassion as anyone in the universe. Not only is it a good thing for me to practice compassion with my neighbor, I need to practice it with myself. See, Buddhism shies away from duality in the universe, instead seeing everything as a continuum of The One. Thus, if I am mean to my neighbor, I am also being mean to myself.

This became clearer to me in graduate school; my roommate was from China. Everything he owned in the world could fit into a small cardboard box, and he laughed all the time. When I asked him who he believed in, he answered, “I believe in me.”

I couldn’t improve on that.

Jill Jacobs; POV: Spiritual But Not Religious: As a person who grew up in a fundamentalist Christian setting, Spiritual Abuses in the Church are of great concern to me because many of my peers who grew up in the same setting were abused as children and teens. Many of them became suicidal or began a life of self-harm. What troubles me even more is this spiritual abuse is still happening at an alarming rate, as evidenced by this video and by other stories surfacing on nearly a weekly basis, including the Independent Fundamental Baptist scandal which has gained national attention in the past year.

More and more, churches and pastors are being exposed as abusers and often times children and teens are the victims. Our society questions why good Christians are leaving the church in droves -- well, this is one very evident reason for it. Scriptures are frequently taken out of context, as the Fairhaven pastor has done with the "he who spareth the rod spoileth his child" verse, which is clearly meant as a directive for parents, not a verse endorsing public humiliation and church community corporal punishment. This activity is not of God and these people are deceived. Using scripture to verbally abuse and humiliate is a form of spiritual and emotional abuse. Indeed, it is a form of bullying which destroys instead of heals. If you are in a situation where you suspect that you or your child are being bullied in a church environment, please seek counsel outside of the church to verify your suspicions. God is not an abusive bully nor should His representatives be. There are plenty of pastors and churches that do not practice this style of abusive, fundamentalist "churchianity".

As the evolution of the Body of Christ continues, we will see more and more of the desperate and dysfunctional branches dying off, in the process people will be exposed for their abuses against the flock. There are still good and loving bodies of believers where healing and wholeness are possible and God's love is practiced. May we all be vigilant to speak up against this insidious spiritual abuse of God's children.

Randy Walker; POV: Agnostic: This video represents what can happen when doubt and freedom of thought are squelched. When children are discouraged or punished for speaking out, sick predators and over-zealous guardians and leaders are more likely to take advantage of them or abuse them. This is not to say that fundamentalism is the only environment that breeds such abuse, but when opposing viewpoints are not vilified, there is more freedom and transparency.

Another potential factor is that when normal human desires, such as sensuality and sex, are repressed by rigid dogma, these desires may be acted-out in illegal or inappropriate ways toward children and unwilling adults. Again, while scandals like these are not exclusive to fundamentalist environments, they do often come to light after the fact.

Finally, when the emphasis is on control and inhibition at the expense of love and acceptance, sick and angry people are often the results. I have firsthand experience with this. 

Peggy Beatty; POV: Mindful Mystic: Parents, family and teachers are a child’s first example of “God” (God being all that is loving and compassionate in the world -- all that is safe). Parents teach children what LOVE looks like. If a parent, who is Love to a child, says or does something unloving, the child’s reality of what constitutes love and how love behaves is discordant. On one hand, love is the affection and kindness for which I long. On the other hand, it is the thing I most fear. A conflicted notion of Love, left unconfronted and unresolved, is carried into all adult relationships and perpetuated in the conflicted child’s parenting paradigm. “Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed, and rare.” - Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection.

“I don’t know what love is. I don’t know how to love someone,” said a young man in video. Not only does he not know how to love, he does not know himself as Love. This is the real tragedy of abuse. Children learn such unconscious and powerful defense mechanisms to protect their vulnerability, that they doubt their self worth, their divine identity as Images of God.

The imperative is to discipline the behavior, not the child. The behavior is simply an outward expression, the mis-action or poor choice of a child whose worth as a human (or in God’s eyes) is never less than precious innocence and love. To discipline means to teach. Corporeal discipline does not teach love. It teaches abuse and conflicted emotion. When a child must resort to emotional defensiveness, she refuses to be emotionally available because that requires vulnerability, and to fully operate in love, one must be vulnerable and emotionally available. Only in the safety of unconditional love, is the soul honored, and thereby encouraged to grow in trust, respect, compassion for self and for others.

Mark Sandlin; POV: Progressive Christian Minister: I appreciate CNN's efforts to remain neutral in presenting this story, but I see the evidence as overwhelmingly on the side of the former students and Pastor Voeglin's adopted kids. Once you understand the kind of “theology” that is being taught at Fairhaven (an astoundingly ironic name for a place that is neither fair nor a haven for the kids who attend), it is sadly not surprising that this kind of abuse happens.

It creates a culture which frequently extends to the children's homes making the abuse inescapable. Catherine Voegtlin, Pastor Voeglin's adopted daughter, told us about a very revealing question asked by CNN's Gary Tuchman which did not make it to the final piece. “He asked me if I hate Roger Voegtlin. I told him NO. I love him so very much. He taught me how to be a great parent. Gary looked at me kind of weird and said, 'What?'

“I said, 'easy I simply do the opposite. [He] taught me to be a great mom. I am thankful for that.'”

While the most damning witnesses must surely be his own children, I find the most convincing witness to be a former student who received his undergraduate and Master's degree from Fairhaven Baptist College. His name is Bob Hayton and he blogs at “Fundamentally Reformed.”

While he is thankful for “many things from [his] time at Fairhaven,” he offers up what is ultimately a fairly damning assessment of the “ethos” which exists at Fairhaven. From an “excessive emphasis on manliness” (including not wearing pink shirts and intimidating any boy who wouldn't agree to be on the wrestling team) to encouraging parents in the “shunning [of] their way-ward children,” he tells a tale of a school that is about as far away from living out the teachings of Jesus as I can imagine.

It's the danger of fundamentalism. You narrow down “the truth” to a specific set of things. They become so important that you are willing to turn off your mind for the sake of what you believe to be a higher “truth.” You become a slave to your own truth.

As I opened this article saying, your version of the “truth” becomes so important, you are willing to hurt people you love. Just imagine what it might allow you to do to someone you might not care for as much as you care for, say, a family member.

Agnostic, Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Spiritual, Mystic -- whatever faith tradition or lack thereof with which you might identify, it is important to stand up against this severe kind of fundamentalism regardless of the traditions to which it attaches itself. We believe that Fairhaven and other fundamental churches like it are dangerous. They are hurting children, hurting families and by extension hurting society. We are asking you to keep sharing this story, write your own stories about it, help keep people aware of this atrocity and maybe collectively we can begin limiting the number of people who are hurt by this kind of fundamentalism. It's just fundamentally wrong.

 

by Randy Walker

Arrogance is a two-edged sword. While it can make people feel superior and confident when stating their beliefs or points in an argument, the people receiving the message are often offended by the arrogance and feelings of superiority emanating from the messenger. In other words, the message may be valid, insightful, and credible, but these qualities are tainted and spoiled by the arrogant way it is delivered. There are a sundry of contexts where this happens, but I want to focus on one particular, controversial topic, and that is worldviews. Narrowing the subject even more, I will focus on fundamentalist Christians and hardcore atheists, who are science fundamentalists.

These two viewpoints provoke venomous responses from both sides of the argument. It is obvious that resentment easily morphs into disdain and outright hatred for the opposing point-of-view. When this happens, any hope of conversion or convincing others to see things from either viewpoint is overshadowed by the venomous nature of the argument. Stated another way, the message is tainted beyond recognition by the arrogant attitudes of the messengers.

Christian fundamentalists use faith rooted in the Bible, which is proclaimed as the infallible, literal “Word of God.” Most of the time, they view atheists as evil opponents who desecrate the Christian faith if only through a lack of belief in a higher power. I have heard more than one Christian say they hate atheists. They also see atheists as a threat to their evangelical pursuits. It is not difficult to see that Christian fundamentalists dismiss atheists as spiritually ignorant because they do not believe in God. I have watched more than one Christian cringe and become angry when the word “atheist” is spoken aloud.  

Hardcore atheists (hereby referred to as “science fundamentalists”) react in a very similar manner when the word “Christian” is spoken. Science fundamentalists rely on logic, reason, and scientific evidence to prove there is no God, and they can be just as arrogant and condescending toward Christians or anyone who dares dispute scientific claims. Have they forgotten that science—not pseudo science that tries to pass for real science, but true science that uses the scientific method to test hypotheses—does not claim to “prove” anything? Scientific research develops a hypothesis. Once the hypothesis is formed, research is designed and conducted; then it is determined whether the data “supports” the validity of the hypothesis. In other words, science always leaves room for further research when more information is revealed.

So, dear science fundamentalist, when you “beat Christians over the head with scientific evidence,” you are not using irrefutable facts. You are using what is supported by current research and accepted as fact, but new information might prove the current research invalid. True science always leaves room for new discoveries or knowledge that will void what is supported by current scientific research. Likewise, dear Christian fundamentalist, when you “beat Atheists over the head with a Bible,” you are assuming they accept your dogma and literal translation of the Bible. Do not both of you realize that arrogant attacks, which vilify and demean each other, do very little to convince others of your superiority? Love and acceptance, whether you agree or not, will get you closer to your goal.

Why can’t the people on both sides of this issue lighten-up on each other and recognize the following: We are all creatures stuck on a rock with a molten center hurdling through space. We do not fully understand how we got here, what we are supposed to do while we are here, nor do we know when we are going to leave and what happens when we leave.

I can see validity and credibility in both perspectives, but nasty attacks that vilify those who do not agree with you do not promote your respective messages effectively. In other words, arrogance taints your messages, and your credibility is damaged. Most importantly, those of us in the middle of the melee grow weary of dodging barbs and being sucked into your arrogance. A quote from the late Earnest Hemingway is an appropriate end to this discussion: “There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.”

by Timothy W. Hooker

I’m probably not going to say everything in this essay just right. But, a realization is slowly dawning on me and I think it’s worth sharing.

A quiet little revolution has been going on in my life. I stumbled across a podcast called “5 Minute Dharma,” by Jay N. Forrest. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Forrest used to be a Christian minister and has since then become a Buddhist teacher. And, instead of droning on and on like lots of dharma talks do, his podcasts cut to the chase. Five minutes, in and out. I highly recommend them.

Anyway, one of the things he recommended was getting a meditation timer and, in particular, he recommended an app called Insight Timer from (you guessed it) http://insighttimer.com. Well, it has proven to be fabulous. Before Insight Timer, I wasn’t the best Buddhist sitter in the world. A gazillion things would get between me and time in meditation. But, this little $1.99 app has done the trick for me. I can pick which sounds I want to start and stop with, how long I want a session to be. And, it even has an online community and a system of stars to reward me for consistency.

Yes, I am Pavlovian enough to respond to rewards.

So, today was Day 26 of consistent everyday meditation. And, it has revealed a few things. The most interesting one, however, has been my bass-ackwards entry into understanding compassion.

Suffice to say, I am not the most compassionate soul on the planet.  At times, I find myself liking Dexter Morgan a bit too much.  But, I think I may have turned a corner.

In my meditations, I have done my best to block out the past and the future and focus on the present. But, as anyone who’s ever tried meditation can tell you, it’s not that easy. Buddhist teachers call it “monkey mind.” Your mind wants to jump every which way and recall stuff you’ve not thought about in decades. And, among my monkey-mind ramblings, I’ve recalled some things I’ve said and done in my life that now cause me to go, “Ouch! Did I really say/do that?”

Yes, I said and did those things. Some were out of ignorance. Some were out of meanness. But, they were 100% mine.

Amazingly, though, as my monkey-mind wanders down Memory Lane, I also remember why I said and did those things. And, that brings along another thought. Ask any mental health worker and they will tell you that a good working definition of mental illness is “a normal reaction to an abnormal situation.”

Think about it.

There’s a reason why soldiers come home with PTSD and constantly check behind every door. They spent a portion of their lives where that hyper-alertness kept them alive. And, now, their brains don’t know that they are no longer on the battle field. Ergo, they continue to have a normal reaction to an abnormal situation.

When you think about it, that simple definition explains a lot of society’s ills. Little girls shouldn’t have to be afraid of grown men molesting them. Six-year-olds shouldn’t have to worry about someone coming to their classroom, bearing assault weapons, intent on killing them.

And, it also explains a lot of what I want to very cautiously call . . . sin.

I don’t mean sin in the “hellfire and brimstone” sense. I mean by that our shortcomings, our mistakes, our weaknesses, and our errors.

Maybe “error” is a better word.

See, I can trace back all the things I shouldn’t have said over the years and all the things I shouldn’t have done over the years to the abnormal causes that lead to that effect or, more awfully, continued to lead to that effect long after the cause had been removed. Whatever bad I’ve done in the world is a direct carry-over of some coping mechanism that, at some point, was needed to survive. But, like Rambo, I came home from the proverbial war and simply kept on fighting-- hurting myself and those around me.

As such, I’m having to stop having those reactions and to learn to forgive myself.

But, here’s the kicker.

The logical extension of that line of thinking is that, in turn, I have to forgive everyone around me-- past, present, and future.

And, if I’m not mistaken, that’s what folks like the Dalai Lama would call “compassion.”

“Compassion” literally means “with suffering,” and thus, to be compassionate is to recognize and identify with other people’s suffering. That means I have to forgive them-- past, present, and future-- because they were reacting normally to abnormal situations in their pasts, too.

Just like me.

Gosh, that brings a quietness to the mind, a stillness to the room. It makes you want to stop for a moment and not think.

Mind you, don’t go telling everyone I’ve reached Nirvana. I still have frustrations and grudges and resentments like everyone else. I’m not blissfully wandering down the road to Shambhala. But, I think my soul may have reached a tipping point.

I’m going to have to think about this one for a while.

How My Views of the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Evolved Over Time

by Randy Walker


Dr. King's name evokes images of a leader who became a martyr for his cause. He stood against social and racial injustice during the tumultuous sixties of the twentieth century when such words and actions provoked violent retaliation from narrow, bigoted people who feared change. The fact that he insisted that protests be conducted using non-violent social disobedience seems ironic in light of his violent and untimely death on April 4, 1968, from an assassin's bullet. When he proclaimed: “…I've been to the mountaintop and I've seen the Promised Land. And I might not get there with you,” during his “Mountain Top Speech,” the people gathered in that Memphis, Tennessee, church were left with an eerie feeling the next day. That was the day he was shot dead on a Memphis hotel balcony. His words are timeless and relevant for today, and his spirit lives on in those who seek justice in the face of nasty attacks and potential violence. I admire his legacy and what he stood for, but it has not always been that way.

I was a child in the sixties, as opposed to, “a child of the sixty's.” As such, I was surrounded by the blatant racism so prevalent, especially in the South, during that time. My children are appalled when I tell them of seeing “Whites Only” signs outside public restrooms and some restaurants, but they were there in all their shameful glory of the era. When I started school, it was the first year racial integration was implemented in the school system I entered. I recall my parents WARNING me about the colored kids who might be in my class. They told me to avoid them because they were different. As a child, I remember thinking: “Are they dirty? Do they carry germs? I can see they are a different color, but why should I avoid them?”

Now, let me stop and explain that I, in NO way, blame my parents for teaching me such atrocious things. They—obviously—are older than me, and they, too, are victims of the paradigms of their time. They have also evolved beyond the narrow bigotry of the era.

Dr. King did not escape the ire of his time; hence I was told he was a troublemaker, who caused the violent Racial Riots of the mid-sixties through the early seventies. Like most gullible children, I came to see him as a bad person that caused problems for white folks. In addition, my parents were members of a fundamentalist church where narrow-mindedness and bigotry was spewed from the pulpit. Old Testament scriptures were used to justify segregation and to claim white superiority as a religious precept (Just recalling this makes me cringe as I write it). The “N” word (Sorry, but I still have difficulty writing that word) was considered appropriate language in most settings of the time; although, I can’t recall it being proclaimed from the church pulpit—maybe there was a small shred of decency or rationality hid somewhere in fundamentalism at the time.

When did my views and feelings toward Dr. King evolve, you may be asking? Well, I don't think I can pinpoint an exact date and time, but I do remember struggling to keep my curiosity as a child. My teenage years included a rebellion against fundamentalism, not a good rebellion, mind you, but a destructive, in-your-face, and I-don’t-care-what-you-think-of-me sort of way. I grew into an angry, self-loathing young man, who I (as I am now) would not have enjoyed being around. The anger carried over into adulthood until I hit rock bottom over a decade ago. I spent time in places no one needs to see, much less be a part of. Pain and loss are effective motivators for change, and I, slowly but surely, begin to realize that there is good in every human being. To me, the source of that goodness is not apparent and can be debated, but it is still there. In other words, my experiences have taught me empathy and compassion for even the fundamentalists I so often criticize. With this mindset, I admire and salute Dr. King’s legacy and his struggle against injustice in any form.

Happy Birthday, Dr. King!

by Mark Sandlin

“The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends towards justice,” proclaimed the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

It may bend towards justice, but it does not bend gently. It bends behind sweat of the brow, creativity of the mind, and love from the soul of those who believe that every living soul not only desires justice and equality, but has a right to it. You see, justice is not a passive pursuit. The moral arc will not bend without encouragement.

Dr. King was a living example of the kind of person who encourages the moral arc of history to bend toward justice. He is also an example of the only effective way to bend that arc: non-violently. We cannot hope to bring about justice by unjust means. Might, physical confrontation and other forms of domination will ultimately only result in nurturing an understanding that domination is an ineffective way to resolve issues of justice – and domination is the exact opposite of justice. As King says, “Hate begets hate; violence begets violence; toughness begets a greater toughness. We must meet the forces of hate with the power of love.”

King was a Christian minister and I see his bias toward the least of these, the bullied and the marginalized; his preoccupation with justice; and his insistence on non-violent ways to bringing about justice as results of his attempt to live out a life guided by the teachings of Jesus. For certain, that is not the only impetus for doing the hard work of bending the moral arc of the universe, but I believe it is the only sincere way to be a follower of the teachings of Jesus.

Author and theologian Walter Wink also understood this moral imperative for those of us struggling to devoutly follow the teachings of Jesus. He helped us to see that not only is the idea of violence being redemptive a myth (violence, as Dr. King pointed out, begets violence), but there is a better way. He called it “Jesus' Third Way,” which is also the name of a small publication he wrote in the 1980s to show Christians a way to non-violently resistance apartheid. In it Wink points out:

This begs the question though, “what does this look like in every day life? How do those of us who are not Kings or Winks or even members of Occupy Wall Street begin the work of bending the arc of the universe toward justice while honoring this call to non-violence?”

To answer, I'd like to share with you a story. It's a true story of the Coup Clutz Clowns. It happened in Knoxville, TN. The video is narrated by the author of the story, White Flour, singer/songwriter and peace activist David LaMotte.

That is non-violent resistance. Was it inspired by the teaching of Jesus? I have no idea – and it really doesn't matter. What matters is how they resisted hate and domination. They did not respond in kind with hate and domination aimed at the “other side.” The unusual and pointed white hoods which hid the identities of the KKK members or even the people themselves who were only willing to show their racism while hiding behind those masks might have been an easy target, but they didn't respond in a way which would belittle the other person. They took aim at the silly idea that one race is more important than another and let their sharp wits fly in a barrage of puns and general silliness (along with bursting bags of flour and arrows of daises).

So let us march on, bending the arc of the universe toward justice. It will take the sweat of our brow, the creativity of our minds and the love of our souls if we hope to sort out a non-violent way forward, but we must never lose sight of the reality that non-violence is the only way forward. And may our friends, the Coup Clutz Clowns, remind us that sometimes the hard work of bending the arc of the universe towards justice can be made all the more pleasant (and effective) with a little humor.

 

 

by Randy Walker


"You don’t need religion to have morals. If you can’t determine right from wrong, then you lack empathy, not religion." 

If you are still reading, I want to offer my perspective on what this quote implies. I feel suited for this infamous task because, while I consider myself spiritual in a broad sense, I am agnostic when it comes to religion and its associated dogma.

First, let’s define the key terms: religion, morals, and empathy. ” Webster’s New World Dictionary, Third College Edition, defines religion as “belief in a divine or superhuman power or powers to be obeyed and worshipped…” The same source defines morals as “good or right in conduct or character.” Continuing with the same source, empathy is “the projection of one’s own personality into the personality of another in order to understand the person better; ability to share in another’s emotions, thoughts, or feelings.

How do we act “good or right in conduct or character”? I believe that we can presume that if we act in self-destructive ways, we are not only harming ourselves, but we are also harming those who love us, look up to us, or depend on us in various ways. Obviously, committing acts that harm others, whether physically or emotionally, shows a lack of morals; however, broadening that perspective to include self-destructive behavior seems valid and logical. So, if we practice empathy (not mere sympathy, which is a measly recognition of and sorrowful feeling toward another’s plight), we are more likely to behave and conduct ourselves in “good or right” ways. Such behavior stems from positive character traits.  

Stated another way, if we are able put ourselves in other people’s shoes and share their thoughts and feelings, we are able to accept different viewpoints whether we agree with them or not. Despite being an obvious cliché, “Don’t judge another until you have walked a mile in their shoes,” has a profound implied meaning. Plus, if we have had a similar experience, we can project ourselves into and share those thoughts and feelings in a seemingly real sense. Simply and concisely put, when we feel others pain, we are motivated to act in ways that are good or right toward them. To me, it is not a huge leap to conclude that empathy induces moral behavior, and it needs no help in doing so. In light of this, where does this leave religion’s role in moral behavior?

Before I continue, I want to make it perfectly clear that I do not see religion as inherently bad or useless. Just because I am agnostic, and cannot accept the absolute nature of the underlying beliefs and dogma of any religion, does not mean I am against it, nor do I demean anyone for adopting a religious or spiritual belief system. It is obvious to me, however, that religion (any religion) is not required for moral behavior. In fact, if religion is not viewed through a wide-angle lens and used as a vehicle or template to promote and sustain moral behavior, it can become a twisted, confusing mess that promotes intolerance and violence against those perceived as outside a specific religious belief system. I could cite several examples of how most major religions in the world have been twisted into dysfunctional fanaticism that supports hatred, prejudice, discrimination, murder, terrorism, and war, but they are common knowledge with no need for specific mention. In other words, blind religious clinging can be just as volatile and dangerous as sociopathic behavior, which is anti-social behavior with no regard for the rights or well being of others.

Please understand that I am not slamming people who believe in a higher power; maybe this is what let’s them accept that we live in an imperfect world, which we have little to no control over. I know there is a larger purpose, force, power (whatever term is used) than me, but I also believe that I need to exert my time and energy into controlling my behavior by being empathetic toward both the religious and non-religious. Religion that promotes blind faith and allegiance is not something I want or need in order to be a moral person, nor do I see it as necessary for anyone to behave morally.