Building a Better Nation

There is the famous story from the Hebrew Bible: A young shepherd named David, an Israelite, battles a giant man named Goliath, a Philistine. David and Goliath couldn’t wait to kill each other. Mutual hatred of the religious, ethnic other propelled them to fight. Both David and Goliath learned to hate. As an Israelite, David was taught that Goliath was impure and ungodly. Throwing a stone at a Philistine was not just a military act — it was an act of morality. Goliath never saw the rock coming. I grew up in a Southern family. My maternal grandmother was even a chapter president of the Daughters of the Confederacy.
Like David and Goliath, I grew up learning certain ethnic and racial prejudices. I vividly remember the day that I first felt the meanness of racism — my own racism. It was sixth grade. I was one of a handful of white kids bused across town to the “other side of the tracks,” as we called it. When we arrived at the school the racism was palatable. On both sides. The bully who started the fight was large for his age. The name calling was race and class oriented. I was white and he was black. I was well off and he was poor. He didn’t like white kids like me and I didn’t like black kids like him. We both learned this racism, just like David and Goliath learned their prejudice. The white kids stood with me, the black kids stood with him. The slander flew back and forth until violence erupted. It happened so fast. My enemy reached down, grabbed a stone, and threw it as hard as he could. Like the biblical Goliath, I never saw the rock coming. You and I, we don’t throw real rocks at people we dislike — or at least I hope we don’t.
Presumably, you and I are not like David and Goliath. Presumably, we are more civilized. Presumably our racism, classism — or bigotries don’t lead us to physical violence. And yet, I wonder how often we, like David, reach into our little bags, pull out an insult, and hurl it at our enemies? How often do we throw slander at people we dislike? Insults are linguistic stones. Whenever we demean someone’s race, nationality, sexual orientation, political party, class, religion—or physical size we are throwing stones at these people — even if these people never hear the words we say. But God hears.
David and Goliath had it out for each other. Who do you have it out for? Who do you despise? At whom do you throw linguistic rocks? President Obama? Mitt Romney? The homeless? The rich? Gays? Conservatives? Liberals? A family member who hurt you? Do you throw rocks at yourself for something you cannot forgive? If we want to build a better community — a better nation! — we must learn to drop our rocks — our insults. We must learn to throw nothing at anyone, nothing except tolerance and compassion.

HELL

I get weary of street preachers pointing their finger at me--and others--while yelling threats of hell.

The New Testament concept of hell (in the Greek, Ghenna), appears twelve times in the entire body of canonical material (eleven gospel references but not one Pauline), and is associated only twice with particular actions committed by individuals. Once, hell is described as the punishment for calling a sister or brother "fool (Matthew 5.22)" and secondly, the despising of "little ones," i.e., "outcasts" (Matthew 18.9). Typically, when Ghenna is spoken of it connotes generalities and not specifics.

However, even if we allow for an extension of the metaphor of hell to include the uses of the word fire, even still there is little textual reference to actions that are eternally punished by fire. The one circumstance where fire is mentioned in connection to eternal consequences (and paired with individual activity/inactivity) is Matthew 25. 31-46.

In the Matthew text, Jesus condemns to eternal fire all those who fail to act on behalf of their brother's and sister's welfare. In other words, sins of omission: failing to visit the sick and imprisoned, withholding clothing, food, and drink from those in need, and not offering hospitality to strangers.

All of this is to say the simplistic co-opting of the Bible for particular agendas profits the church and those outside its walls little; but the misunderstanding and stereotypes engendered, and the spiritual and psychological harm it may wreak, is much. 

So, if you happen to be the type of Christian who points your finger at people and then beats them over the head with threats of hell, you may want to pause and examine how many fingers are pointing back at yourself.     

Only Friends

My stepfather is a writer and editor. He is also an honest man whose opinion I value.

Each month I email him this column, and each month he emails my columns back to me with suggestions on how to improve the column.

Last month, I sent him what I thought was a brilliant piece of writing on religious doubt. I felt sure that the column would wow him. But, as an honest man — and my friend — he wrote back, “Hunt (everyone in my family calls me by this nickname) — this column was a tough one for me to follow and agree with. Not your best writing.” When I read his remark I thought: “Hmm…I guess the piece wasn't as genius as I imagined.”

Did it sting a little to read his critique?

Yes.

But I’m glad he told me the truth. It goes without saying (but I will, nevertheless, say it) that only a true friend will tell you if your writing stinks, your zipper is down, or that you have blue cheese dressing on your upper lip.

My email conversation with my stepfather reminded me of the French existentialist, Albert Camus, who wrote, “Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

That’s what we all crave, is it not? Don’t we all crave a friend to walk beside us — in the good times and the bad? Don’t we all crave someone who we can relate with and share common interests?

Don’t we all crave a relationship of mutuality and the type of friend-love that allows for honest critique?

Sometimes it’s not easy to have a good friend because sometimes a good friend must tell us what we don’t want to hear. And sometimes what we don’t want to hear is exactly what we do need to hear. As the Jewish wisdom literature of Proverbs reminds us: “An open rebuke is better than hidden love. Wounds from a sincere friend are better than many kisses from an enemy.”

Or, as the Buddha taught: “A good friend who points out mistakes and imperfections is to be respected as if he reveals a secret of hidden treasure.”

A couple of weeks ago I received a Publix advertisement in my mailbox. Contained in this advertisement was a piece of trivia that stated: “People who have a friend within one mile of their home tend to be happier than those who have friends living farther away.”

I don’t know whether or not this is true for all people, but it is true for me. It’s like Aristotle said: “Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.” The closer you are to your good friend, the closer you are to your own soul.

So, what are you waiting for? Touch base with the other half of your soul. You’ll be glad that you did — even if your friend tells you what you’d rather not hear.

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An Attack On One Religion is an Attack On All Religions

I'm enraged at people I don't even know. 

I've just finished viewing the 14 minute movie trailer for the so-called “Muhammad Movie,” which has many Muslims around the globe enraged by the portray of their founder.

I stand with the many nonviolent Muslim protesters. I, too, am furious. Spitting mad, as the old saying goes. I'm angry at the writer who sold the script, angry at the producer, director, editors, actors, and everyone else who participated in a project that so flagrantly demeans and demonizes the world's third largest religion.

In the New Testament book of Romans, St. Paul says, “In so far as you are concerned, be at peace with all people.” I strive to live by this dictum. But not all people do. 

Some Christians and non-Christians live in ways that build fires of disrespect. I am not surprised that people would make such a movie. Depravity is a human disease. Depravity, like love or laughter, is one of the things humanity shares the world over. But still I am mad at those who created the film. Madder than a hornet. 

Not only does The “Muhammad Movie” intentionally antagonize devout Muslims, but indirectly the movie mocks and denigrates all historic religions. If the writer and producer can create a film that depicts Muhammad the Prophet in a sickly light, so too can the writer and producer create a film that portrays Jesus, the Buddha, or Moses in a pejorative way. An attack on one religion is an attack on all religions.

No religion is above critique. No religion, when viewed microscopically, comes away clean—just as no person the world over, if viewed in a similar light, would come away spotless. The writer and producer of the so-called “Muhammad Movie” included.

It doesn't take a genius to know that our world has become a global community. One large neighborhood. People living in Libya are not so far away. With the advent of social media, people who live 7,000 miles away may as well live right next door. What kind of people would intentionally injure their neighbor? What kind of people consciously set out to hurt a person who lives next door to them?       

Civility (or lack thereof)

http://staugustine.com/living/religion/2012-08-23/civility-or-lack-thereof#.UDd8wMFlR3c

Words Matter

Remember how the Bible starts in the book of Genesis – with a beautiful narrative – almost like a poem – with a rhythm and refrain: "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth…. God said, let there be light, and there was light! And God said, let there be a dome in the midst of the waters... and it was so. And God said, let the waters be gathered together into one place... And it was so."

Over and over we read, “And God said... and it was so.” It's interesting that God speaks creation into being. From the very beginning of scripture, we learn that there is something about language, something about the spoken word that has the ability to create reality.

If you ever doubt the power of the spoken word, imagine a child who is told from a very early age – you are so smart. You are so beautiful. You are so important. I love you. What’s their world going to be like? Or, on the other hand if a child is told over and over – you’re bad. You’re hard-headed. I wish I could send you back. What’s the world going to be like for that child as he or she grows up? These two children would experience two different realities.

Part of being created in the image of God is sharing in God's creative ability. The words we speak matter. So choose, and use, your words carefully and with love. Remember, your words help create reality.

Got Doubts?

Philosophy, art and poetry have always welcomed doubters. Take the bestselling poet of all time, Shakespeare, who wrote, “Mmodest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.” However, unlike poets, the religious have mostly been suspicious of doubt—and doubters. One of the most notorious religious doubters in history is Thomas. In the Christian New Testament, we read about Thomas in the Gospel according to John.  In this gospel, Thomas declares to his buddies who have recently seen the resurrected Jesus, “Unless I see…. I will not believe.” One week later Jesus appears to Thomas. In most English translations, Jesus says to him (rather dryly, I imagine), “Do not doubt but believe.”                                    

                                                                                                                                      

It’s time to set the record straight. I want to clear Thomas’ name. I want to clarify and redeem that odious title, “Doubting Thomas,” which is a mistranslation.         In the original Greek of the phrase I quoted earlier, Jesus does not say, “Do not doubt but believe.” A more accurate, though admittedly clumsy translation is “Do not be unbelieving but believing.”                                                                                                         

This is an important distinction between the usual reading of this verse and the literal rendering of the phrase. This distinction is important because, in my book, there is major difference between unbelief and doubt.                                                                                                                                                                                             

What I mean to suggest is this: doubt presumes belief—for you cannot doubt that which you do not believe (however meagerly the case may be). You must believe something in order to doubt that same something. Thomas, according to the original language of the text, did not believe Jesus had been resurrected—so he could not have doubted the resurrection.                                                                                                          

You may wonder if I have gone off the deep end…why else get so nit-picky about a couple of words? The choice of words makes all the difference in my Christian faith. And here’s why: my experience suggests that religious belief is a two sided coin. On one side is faith. On the other is doubt. Faith and doubt are companions to religious belief. They are spiritual siblings. It’s like Khalil Gibran, the third bestselling poet of all time declared, “Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother.”                                                                                                                                                                                  

Were it not for doubt, which is nothing more than curiosity or inquisitiveness, we would not grow in belief.  Faith does not increase belief (conviction), nor does belief (conviction) increase faith. Like a knife in need of sharpening, faith, too, needs a whetstone to hone its edge. Doubt, dear readers, is the whetstone of faith.                                                                                                                                                                                          

Doubt is a gift from God. Doubt is not to be feared but embraced: for God is greater than our doubts—indeed, God uses our doubts to lead us deeper into the mystery of our belief. And if you don’t believe me, just ask Thomas.