I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here. There are many reasons for that. Hopefully, I’ll be back soon with loads of new material.
Right now, however, I want to let you know about the condition of Rachel Held Evans. If you ever followed me on Facebook or twitter you are aware of the high esteem in which I hold RHE. She has been an encouragement to me and many others as we navigate the path away from toxic evangelicalism. So, Thank you,Rachel for your openness and willingness to share your journey with us.
According to Rachel’s husband, Dan, Rachel went in for treatment of an infection. She had a negative reaction to the treatment and began to experience seizures. The medical staff have put her in a medically induced coma.
She is currently still in that condition in the ICU.
Before I even get started I want to apologize for the condition of my previous essay. I was angry and emotional. I didn’t take time to proofread. So, the result was far below my own standards.
Sorry.
I’m still not doing great. Since I wrote that last piece another young person died. Another life cut short. It just keeps happening. Over and over and over and……..
I’m not a philosopher. Nor a true theologian. I’m just a guy whose wife tells him that he thinks too much and makes things difficult. Ok, mea culpa. That doesn’t change reality. People still suffer and people still die needlessly. If I was a theologian, (I’m not), I would probably try to explain things logically. After all, we want to have meaning in life and, especially, in death. So, I might take the road most traveled and try my hand at what is called “theodicy.” I mentioned that in the last post. In its simplest form a theodicy tries to find answers to this problem:
P1: If God is perfectly good, He must want to abolish evil.
P2: If He is unlimitedly powerful He must be able to abolish evil.
P3: But, evil exists
P4: God is either not perfectly good or He is not unlimitedly powerful.[1]
This problem has been present ever since people decided that they needed to defend God from any kind of limits or evil. Because, you know, God needs us to defend Him. This question has been asked by those who deny that God either exists or, if God does exists He is not worthy of our veneration, let alone our worship. And, I have to agree with them. If this is the argument that we must use, the criteria necessary for faith, then they are quite correct. God is not good. In fact, God may even be evil. Or, God only exists in our imaginations.
I don’t accept that.
I do think that God is all Good. That God is, in essence, all Powerful. I also know that evil exists.
I don’t think that those theologians and philosophers, however, are asking the right questions. I’m not sure that they are starting with the correct information to form their opinions. I’m quite sure that logic won’t do the job necessary to explain why two young people have recently died.
Let me begin by stating my own starting point. Most of the folks who engage in the thought problem as I so briefly stated it begin with a literal interpretation of the Bible. They use the text as their source. So, things like the creation story or the flood story in Genesis become points that they use for their argument.
I don’t. Mostly because I don’t read the Bible as literal history. It was never intended for that. When people ask the text to hold up their arguments, they are asking it to take on too heavy a load. A load for which it was never intended to bear. What I think about the text is a matter for another time.
What I do think is that when creatures evolved to the point of self-awareness, they also became aware of God. I think at that time God was able to begin to establish relationships with these creatures. (I use “creatures” because I’m not convinced that Homo Sapiens was the only species to achieve self-awareness.) As humanity evolved to be the dominate species, God continued to relate to them. In ways that I don’t know, God began to make Godself known to the nascent humans.
One of the realities that came with humanity was something I refer to as “the human condition.” The Biblical writers tried to describe this, I believe, in their writings about creation and the so-called Fall. The God that was becoming known to them was benevolent and loving. Yet, they too had to reconcile a world where sickness and war and anxiety were ever present. They imagined stories of a paradisaical world when everything was good. To explain their own reality, they believed that humanity was at the center of the change from paradise to a hostile world where humans had to work hard for food and sustenance. The “Real” world. Anyway, I think that this human condition is why there is suffering and death in the world. It’s not some external thing that entered the world. It IS the world. I agree with many secularists in that the universe is not a nice place. It’s always trying to kill us. That is the nature of things. Deal with it.
If this is the starting point, then what of the questions about God’s place in all of this. First, if the creation story is just that, a story, then the earth is about 4 billion years old and the universe is over 13 billion years old. And, more importantly, God did not create evil. In fact, evil in this sense is simply the way things are. Neither good nor evil. Just reality. So, when folks start asking the question, Why does God allow evil? I reply, “What evil.” What is it that they think God is allowing? If the Human Condition simply is the reality of things, how can we label it evil? To do that they need to define “good” as opposed to reality. I don’t know about you, but that hurts my brain. I can’t do the mental gymnastics needed to set reality against some human definitions of good and evil.
I know. I’m rambling like a crazy person. Maybe I am. That, too, is reality. But, I wanted to begin to draw an alternative picture. A picture in which the world is the way it is because, well, it’s the way it is. Humanity, too, is simply the place where the “Human Condition” exists. Good? Evil? I don’t know. Like I wrote above, I’m not sure that those descriptors are even valid. They are simply human constructs used to describe the world.
I promise that I’m going somewhere with all of this. It may take a few more posts to work it all out. Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I get it out. I’m thinking while I’m writing.
I look forward to hearing some of your thoughts. Lord knows I’m not all that smart. And, I surely don’t have any inkling of what the actual reality of the world is. I only see my small corner. For better or worse, I’m sharing that.
[1] John Hick, Evil and the God of Love (Norfolk, England: Lowe and Brydone, 1975), p.5.
I’m getting too old for this shit. I really am. I’ve seen too much needless death in my life. Recently, I heard about a young woman who took her own life. Another person, family, destroyed. How long? How long must we sit by and watch hopeless people suffer in silence; loneliness? Is no one taking notice? Yeah, there are people and organizations dedicated to helping people who reach out to them. That’s a wonderful thing for people to give themselves to. Trying to give hope to the hopeless. And, the discussions that have begun over the last few years about mental health are good. It’s sad that it seems that a mass shooting is the only way that these concerns are raised. But, it’s too little. The issue is way larger than what individual people and organizations can cope. The issue isn’t just in the U.S. It’s global. From Gaza to Ukraine to China to Guatemala, people suffer and die. Needlessly. What can we do? Isn’t there a way to fix this? If God exists, why don’t we see some kind of Divine Intervention? That’s a thing called Theodicy. I might write about that some time. Or, not. So, why this particular person? This particular death? Why am I so triggered by this single event? Honestly, I don’t know. Lord knows that I’ve not been affected by other suicides. Not even those I’ve known personally. Why? Part of the reason, I think, is frustration. We try to communicate that things aren’t as bad as they may seem in this moment. Some simplistic thinkers like to say that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. These people don’t know what they’re talking about. They’ve never stepped to the brink. I have. It’s far more than a temporary solution. It seems to be the ONLY solution. For those who wonder about where’s God? I believe to this day that it had not been for divine intervention you all wouldn’t be reading my nonsense today. Again, maybe a story for another time. Maybe, not. I’ve had the great gift of studying the Christian Bible. I’ve found that there’s a lot more to it than what any televangelist or priest or pastor or others think. I won’t bore you with details. Yet. For now, let’s just say that I see in these ancient texts people who lived lives in this world. Lives just like us. They had desires and needs. Just like us. They loved and were loved. Just like us. They worried about the same things that worry us. And, they searched for answers. Just. Like. Us. We all desire answers to life’s problems. Don ‘t we? If you say you don’t, I want what you’re drinking. We read in the various news outlets and hear from the talking heads who presume to be experts in whatever field they live in. We try to explain a problem in such a way that we may try to find solutions. We want to fix what’s we perceive as broken. What if we’re wrong? What if life isn’t a problem to solved? Something that we can dissemble in order to find a common root? A broken gear tooth that can be fixed simply with a new gear? Isn’t that how we all pursue life? One day; one problem at a time. Funny how that never really works? We plug one leak, another pops up in the line. Always. I’m not writing this to sound all doom and gloom. Trying to paint a hopeless future. I’m not. My study of Scripture and my faith have given me, well, a little glimmer of hope. A glimmer that not everyone will see even if I draw a picture. This, too, is part of the reality of life. I spent most of the summer studying what’s called the “Sermon on the Mount.” The sermon can be found in chapters 5, 6, & 7 in the Gospel According to Matthew. Because of its position and length is the Gospel, it would appear that it’s kind of important. It contains such memorable things like the Golden Rule and the Lord’s Prayer. At least, you’d think so. But, as I’ve studied and meditated and discussed the Sermon, it’s become painfully obvious that it is also one of the most misunderstood texts in the Bible. You see, so many, (most? All?), who read it see it as a compilation of “Jesus sayings” and other material that Matthew, or someone, cobbled together to form what we read today. Their arguments are academically sound. Well, some are. The result is that when people read the Sermon today, when they preach and teach it, they break it into nice little bite sized pieces. Then they develop doctrines and dogma and interpretations based on the tiny pieces they’ve bitten off. In fact, this is how the Scriptures are handled and presented in general. So, when we read the Sermon we learn about the Poor in Spirit and the ones who Mourn or Hunger after Righteousness. We get to hear a person tout all of the properties of salt and light. They will teach us all we need to know about divorce and remarriage. Or, murder and hate. Or, worrying about what we’ll eat or wear. What we never, or at least, very rarely hear is anything about why Jesus would say all of these thing together in the first place. Why He called His discipled up a hill in order to deliver to them these many things that have to do with life in this world. I’m not gonna say anymore right now. I’m still angry. But, my anger is not directed at the usual suspects. It’s directed toward me. It’s directed at the “big C” Church. All of that I hope to unpack as I contemplate this more. As God sees fit to let me see. As I’m able to actually see it.
Well, it’s day 2 of 2025. I would’ve written yesterday, but I had to work. Yeah, I’m back in the workforce. Actually, I started back in April of last year. I spent about 5 months working in the nursery at Petitti’s Garden Center. It was interesting and mindless work. Watering trees and shrubs, stocking new inventory, and dealing with overly privileged people with too much money on their hands. As I was seasonal help, my season ended just before Labor Day. In early October I began a stint at Giant Eagle in the bakery. I’m technically a “clerk.” That means that I slice the bread and package the other baked goods that the bakers bake. I deal with customers who want this or that which the bakers and decorators make. And, I get to clean up the messes that the aforementioned bakers, et al., make. It keeps me busy and provides added funds for things like books and music gear. So, all that to say that I’m at the bottom of the totem pole at GE. So, I got to work all day yesterday. Yippee. This year I’ll probably keep working at something or other. Presumably, at GE, as there are only so many places where a feeble, old fart like me can work. Plus, I have no desire to do anything that could be considered “career track.” Been there; done that. One thing that I am pursuing, though, I began in October. That is, I began the discernment process for entering into the Episcopal priesthood. Yeah, I know. “What the hell are you thinking, Helbert?!” Maybe I’m not thinking. Maybe just going with my gut on this. Ordained work has long been lurking in the dark recesses of my mind. I began consideration of that while yet in high school. I was all set to go to Malone College, (now Malone University), to pursue an undergrad that would prepare me for seminary. Well, as they say, “life happened” and that path was closed. However, the desire for that type of work never really left me alone. That’s why, in 2006, I began seminary at Ashland Theological Seminary. After 5 years of balancing work, family, and grad school I graduated in 2011 with a Master of Divinity. That pretty much made me a deep thinking person in debt. I have had the opportunity to teach some Bible stuff and occasionally stand in the pulpit and pretend to preach. That old desire for ordination kept sticking its nose up, though. So, I finally decided to check it out. The next couple of years will determine if this is truly something that I should pursue. That’s why they call it ‘discernment.’ So, we’ll see. I’d like to say that I have 2025 all planned out. That Hope and I have set certain goals to work toward. Yeah, no. We haven’t. We kinda roll with what’s given us. Maybe take a trip here or there. Maybe do some home renovation. Maybe just sit and complain about all of the things that we’re not doing. We’ve really gotten pretty good at that. I do hope to escape 2025 alive and well. The older I get, the more that becomes a matter of speculation. Such is the way of things. For better or not, the calendar won’t stop flipping pages. At least, I’m fairly sure of that. I will continue to drop notes in this here blog thingy from time to time. Heck, I’m paying for this domain. I may as well us it. Much of what appears here will likely be mundane stuff. Like this post, for instance. Others will probably take a closer look at our shared “Human Condition” in this time in which we live. I hope to take deeper dives into faith and the Church and the Scripture. Since those things have occupied much of my life up to now. I’ve been reluctant to write stuff that I think may be “too religious.” I know that folks reading my rant and mad railings don’t share my beliefs. I worry about offending some and losing some followers. But, I’m pushing 70 and I’m finding more and more that I really don’t have too many “fucks” to give. So, be forewarned. Anyway, that’s about all I have to say. My wife wants me to go look at fabric and sewing machines. Ah, the life of the retired. But, not quite.
Well, here we are at the end of yet another year. On the cusp of 2025 many of us share hope that the next year will be different. Spoiler alert: it won’t be. I’ve seen nearly 70 of these calendar pages turned. Nothing really changes. Except that I’ll forget the year on checks for a while. That’s why I use auto-pay a lot! So many people focus on what’s to come. And, too few of us truly reflect on what was. I think that’s a mistake. There is much that we have all accomplished that should be held high and celebrated. There are also those things that we would rather not been done. Such is the way of it. By “it” I mean the human condition. This is something that I’ve reflected on a great deal this past year. It is the true equalizer in the world. No one is beyond its influence. I even grasped that Jesus, the son of Joseph, was not above it. The only difference that I can see between Him and everyone else is that He chose to enter into it. But, that’s a story for another day. This condition is universal in scope, yet appears differently to different cultures and classes. By definition, though we are all subject to it. I see this condition as one of misery, desertion, poverty, and anxiety. I think for many, 2024 taught us that. While we may live in our nice homes with all of the food and comforts that we desire, we still by our insurances and stock up ‘just in case.’ The year now winding down to its conclusion caused no shortage of anxiety. Not only in the U.S., but all around the world political and economic uncertainty has made us wary, not only of those who are different from us in race or culture, but of our own families and friends. These are the characteristics of the “human condition.” Not the outward appearance of well-being. That’s at best cosmetic. No, this condition is internal. It’s what we are born into. The evolutionists may say that this is simply a vestigial holdover from an earlier age when survival made suspicion and distrust necessary. Maybe. Only to me it seems that we as a species are more suspicious than ever. Of course, I have no way to prove that. It’s just my gut saying it. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting old and cynical. Perhaps that’s part of the human condition, too. We see the reality of living. We are witness to suffering of other humans in war and poverty. Every. Single. Day. Fear is used as a tool to achieve wealth and power. Fear, that universal scourge that infects every living thing. Fight or flight. “Stay away from me and my stuff!” It’s no wonder that we crawl into our homes and view the world from the supposed safety of our various devices. Well, except those who can’t afford either a home or devices. Such is our lot as we trek and toil toward…what? A new year? New hope? New resolutions? But, as David Byrne and the Talking Heads sang, “Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.” Qoheleth, the Teacher, who wrote the Biblical book Ecclesiastes saw this over 2,000 years ago. He wrote, “Vanity! All is vanity…What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.” Does this mean that I must remain in a cynical, hopeless life? No, of course not. There’s always hope. It’s just not in politics or the economy or how good our insurance is. I think that any hope that we might find is in that which we distrust. Each other. Community is where we came from. Our earliest ancestors learned that as they began to walk and live in a hostile world. They needed each other then. Just as we do now. To hide in our ‘safe’ homes is an illusion. We can never hide from ourselves or our fears. Together, however, we might just learn to trust and walk in the light. Much, (all?), of what I’m thinking in this regard comes directly from my study of the Bible and the community of faith that I’m part of. Most, however, has been discerned as I sit quietly with God. I think that this quietness is the beginning of community. After all, God exists in community; Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. But, then, I believe in stuff that most of the world doesn’t. While I have no trust in the ways and systems of this world, I do have a fleeting hope in humanity to see outside of itself. To grasp the truth of our need to trust, not only one another, but the earth and all that it contains. We are all floating around on the wet ball. If we can’t learn to trust to this reality and the God Who lives here with us, Who can we trust?
Last night my wife and I went to see and hear something called, “Bebop & Brazil.” The young man who serves as the organist for us on Sundays produced it. He is a student at Oberlin College where he is studying organ. For this event, he sat at the piano and was joined by several of his Oberlin classmates to fire up the Jazz Machine. They played mostly Latin Jazz. Their rendition of Jobim’s “Girl from Ipanema” was spot on. The young woman who sang brought the life of Astrud Gilberto to the lyric. I was duly impressed by the skill of these musicians who are studying at Oberlin’s Conservatory. Some are studying Jazz. While others, like our own Walker Whitehouse, studies the more classical genres. The guitar player was like Dire Strait’s “Guitar George.” He knew all the chords. I was impressed with his chord phrasing and the big smile on his face. The drummer had chops. Some of the Brazilian rhythms he played were complex. Yet, he nailed them with a confidence that belied his age and experience. He and the bass player held the band together as any good rhythm section must do. While their lack of experience was evident, their commitment to their art and to the music itself was inspiring.
All I can say about the event was that it was the most fun that I’ve had in a very, very long time. The energy that these young musicians had was contagious. Their joy at being able to make music together filled the room. I was a foot tappin’, wide grinnin’ old guy.
I remember when I was their age. I had the same joy and energy that these folks had. There is something about new discoveries that accompany playing live for an audience that touches the soul. These young artists are discovering that. I could see it on their faces. I could hear it in the back and forth between the drums and the bass. The dynamics of live performance lift the spirit and brings a moment when there is nothing but you, the music, and the audience. I do truly miss that. But, I’m so grateful to these musicians for their offering. And, I am truly happy that they will continue to grow and experience the joy of art and performance.
We’re smack dab in the middle of Advent, 2024. It’s a season of anticipation. Anticipating the arrival of the Messiah, Jesus. This year, however, I think that many anticipate the future with anxiety. Rather that awaiting the Prince of Peace many anticipate the Prince of Doom. Many others see the future with hope. Such is Advent in 2024. I, too, look forward with unease. Not because of what I know, but rather, what I don’t know. I don’t know if the many doomsayers will be right. That 2025 may inaugurate the end of the world as we know it. That our lives may be at best, interrupted by chaos. Nor, do I know that the change will do us good. Who knows? I certainly don’t. What I do know, however, is that neither our hopes nor fears will change what will actually be. That’s way above my pay-grade. What I do know is that politics and the economy and border security will not save us. Not from the outside. Nor, from the inside. Nor, from ourselves. Hell, I’m not even sure what “save” means! This season. This year. The anticipation of things that we think will help or harm is the wrong place for Advent. This season. This year. Anticipation of the coming of Messiah Jesus is truly needed. We’re all in this world together. Perhaps, our focus, at least for a short time, could be directed to that Advent. Just a thought.
Here’s the annual repost of my take on Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem. If you have read my blog you know that I do not hold to the whole “Away In A Manger” story. That story really has nothing at all to do with 1st Century Palestinian life. I believe that this story is a better representation of that. Read with an open heart and mind. Perhaps, we may find a greater understanding of who Jesus was and our part in His family.
The caravan moved slowly up toward Jerusalem. It had been a long journey from Galilee through Samaria. We could not travel very fast because of the young, pregnant woman. Most of the caravan stopped in Jerusalem. We, however, had a few more miles to go to get to our ancestral home of Bethlehem.
We entered the town and located the home of Joseph’s cousin. Entering, we greeted those already gathered. “Shalom! Baruch hashem Adonai!” “Peace! Bless the name of the Lord!” Unpacking our donkeys, we noticed that there were a lot of people already present. It seems that the whole clan had answered Caesar’s demand that we return for this census. Joseph helped Mary up to the living quarters while I got fodder for the donkeys. As I turned to climb the stairs I saw Joseph gesturing angrily.
“No guest room?! My wife is going to give birth at any moment! You must make room for her and the child!”
“No, we cannot. There are too many people. We cannot have one room given to her alone.”
“Wait,” one of Joseph’s aunts said. “We can fix a place for her down below. There is plenty of fresh straw. And, we can put blankets down to help make her more comfortable.”
Mary, being young and new to the family looked at Joseph and nodded. She was already suspect, being pregnant already. She did not want to give the family any more reason to look down on her.
Evening came. Mary was having contractions every few minutes. One of the aunts acted as midwife. They made Mary as comfortable as possible.
Joseph was upstairs with the rest of the family. He was pacing the floor. One cousin scolded him, “Sit down and relax! Everything will be fine. This is not the first child ever born!”
But, everyone knew that many first pregnancies did not end well. Especially, when the mother was as young as Mary. In addition, both Joseph and Mary were anxious about the child. That strange man that had appeared nine months ago had said some very strange things about this child. As the birth drew near, the young parents wondered what kind of creature was about to enter their world.
It seemed as though Mary had been laboring for hours. With a final push the child arrived. With a cry, the child took his first breath. The midwife lifted the child and tied off the umbilicus.
“It’s a boy!”
Joseph gave a sigh of relief. The others began to pour bowls of wine and a party celebrating the birth of a first-born son began. They sang and danced and drank. When Mary was cleaned up and the child wrapped in clean cloths, Joseph was summoned to come down. He looked compassionately at Mary. She was so strong and brave…no longer a child. Joseph reached into the feeding trough in which his newborn son had been laid. He picked him up.
“My son, Yeshua!”
A little later I looked up and saw a small group of people entering the house. By the staves that they were carrying I could tell that they were shepherds.
“Who let this rabble in?” I thought. Shepherds were not usually welcome among respectable people. They walked over to where the child lay sleeping.
“We were out in the field tending the sheep. Suddenly, there was a great light in the sky! We feared that something was going to take our sheep and harm us! Then, we heard a voice saying that a child had been born…here…in Bethlehem. The voice said that this child is the Messiah who we have been waiting for!”
Another shepherd spoke up saying, “Then there was a great host praising God! They gave God glory and said that peace was to reign between God and those whom God favors!”
We poured bowls of wine for the shepherds and continued to celebrate throughout the night.
However, Mary had a puzzled look on her face. She said nothing!
With all that’s going on in our world today it’s easy to find something to bitch about, er, I mean vent about. Whether it’s the political climate that seems to be warming the world as much as the meteorological climate, or it’s the economy, stupid, there’s no drought when it comes to things for which we humans vent. To vent is to basically let off some steam, to release pent up pressure before some catastrophic event. Like an explosion. No one likes that. Too much collateral damage. Too many pieces to clean up after. Especially if you have a stew cooking in a pot. That creates quite the mess. So it is if we don’t take time to let what’s stewing within us to release pressure. That, too, creates quite the mess. I suppose that I could carry on all day about what it means to vent or pent. Keeping pressure pent up within ultimately leads to dreadful circumstances. Internally or externally, pressure must find a way out. So, I guess that I should get on with it. Tribalism is taking its toll on me. The whole ‘us’ and ‘them’ view is strangling the life out of me. It’s easy to be ‘us.’ We are the folks who know the difference between right and wrong. We are the true caretakers of (insert the topic du jour). They are misguided. They can’t see the obvious truth that’s staring them in the eye. I hear things like “those libtards are ruining the country.” Or, “ there’s darkness on the Right.” Both sides. ALL sides! If there are sides there will be conflict. And, I’m just sick of it. Yeah, it’s easy to dismiss those with whom we disagree. They simply don’t know any better. Or, so we think. It’s more difficult when the disparagement flows so easily from the mouths and attitudes of members of our own tribe. As I listen to folk whom I love and respect glibly dismiss those “others” I find myself doubly hurt. This is especially true of the family of faith to which I belong. We consider ourselves to be a welcoming community. Those who are outcast in society, whether LGBTQ+ or African American or immigrants or the poor or the unhoused are welcomed with open arms. We rightfully provide a safe space for any and all who meet our definition of outcast. However, as I listen to my spiritual siblings speak of those they deem “unwelcoming,” I see the head of Medusa peering out from the shadows seeking who to glare at. I know that none of us is ever truly aware that we’re acting exactly as those whom we castigate. But, we are. I don’t say this to simply call out the apparent hypocrisy that is exposed in those moments of careless speech. Even though it is. I say this because it bugs me. Like that miserable mosquito that keeps buzzing around my ear, I want nothing more than to squash it. But, then, I stop to examine myself. Have I not been as guilty as anyone? Whether I can’t let go of some past hurt or present ignorance, mea culpa. For me as a follower of Jesus that constitutes something called sin. A missing of the mark; a falling short of the glory of God. Whatever you want to call it, it’s simply playing into the base nature of humanity. There is a better way, I’m told. The Way of the Servant. The Simple Way. The Way of the Cross. These are ways to describe our own place in the Real World. The Real World that tells us that we are better than those ‘others.’ The Real World that requires us to draw lines and live within tribal boundaries. The Real World where people live and work and play. Sorry, not sorry, but that Real World is not Real. It’s made up of our cultural ideas and identity. It’s exists in our thoughts and prayers. It keeps people on edge, or with a knife’s edge at each others’ throats. In a word, it’s false. I’m not at all sure where to go after I finish venting. I surely have no answers for the questions that persist in our human consciousness. Mostly to our own hurt. But, I promise myself to search for that better way to a world in which we can disagree with respect. Where we don’t backbite and devour on another. For, I know that it exists; somewhere.
Today is April 8, 2024. Where I live the sun is shining and there’s warmth in the air. Looking out my window I can see the daffodils bursting with glorious new color as the blooms stretch their necks to let the warm face of the sun shine on the bright, yellow faces of the flowers. As Fred Rogers would say, “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.” Today is also the day when Luna will pass before the face of Old Sol. I’m fortunate in that I live directly in the center of the Path of Totality. So, I will be on my patio with my special ISO approved glasses watching as this event crosses directly over my head. As I reflect on this a few things pop into my head like sparks rising from a fire and drifting into my consciousness to illuminate whatever it is that may be hiding in the nooks and crannies of my mind. This particular eclipse has a fairly lengthy lineage. About 13.8 billion years ago the Universe which we call home exploded into life. As the gasses and various atomic “stuff” that makes up everything that we can see sped at nearly the speed of life in all directions, clumps of it began to gather and coalesce. Approximately 4.6 billion years ago a hot mess spun into shape. Over the next bunch of billions of years that hot mess began to form and differentiate into balls of hot gasses and matter. These slowly cooled and formed the Solar System that we love and know. During this process the earth and the moon began their dance of joy around one another. Sometimes, as we’re spinning our beloved partner she takes her place between Old Sol and our Terra. We are truly “Leapin’ and Hoppin’” in a Moonshadow. Such things are blessings made. There are many, perhaps too many, who think that such an event is a ‘sign’ or ‘portent’ of something much more sinister and supernatural. To them I say, “Let’s talk tomorrow when everything is still the same.” For me, I am quite happy to share in this Super event that is truly Natural. Too old souls simply enjoying the music of the heavens and dancing with joy.
The Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Ephesus, “Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” So many of us are caught up in the chaos and fear that holds the world in thrall. It’s absolutely true that we live in uncertainty. We wonder where our place in society actually is. Weren’t the things that we learned as a child absolute? For those of us who grew up in the White Middle Class these fears seem especially alive. We were taught that if we just worked hard we could have anything that we desired. The world was “our oyster.” We had “the world on a string.” We could “move that rubber tree plant” if we just have “high hopes.” Now, however, we feel as if all of that has been taken away from us. What thieving, conniving, son of a bitch had the kahonas to do that? Why I oughta….! I know that we’ve all felt this. That some injustice has overtaken us. And, it was “THEM” that did it! Damn them! We then rail and rant against those other people who cause us so much anxiety and anger. In the U.S. right now those others range from illegal migrants who threaten to take our jobs. Or, it might be the Main Stream Media that are trying to teach our kids how to be some kind of ‘woke Libtard.’ Of course, the whole of Washington, D.C. is a swamp that desires to suck the life out of us. They want to take our guns and force some kind of “Homosexshul” agenda down our throats. Of course there are many who feel that conservatives are trying to drag us back into the Victorian Era. They want to control our lives by telling us what we can or can’t read or who we are able to love. We mustn’t forget the rich elites on both sides who are bankrolling the destruction of our country. For some it’s all about “God, Guns, and Country.” For others it’s about inclusivity and equality. Our anger is directed at all who seem to be stepping on our rights. OUR Rights! We turn the saying of Jesus around and say, “Anyone who is not for us is against us.” Rather than, “Whoever is not against us is for us.” We’ve divided ourselves into warring factions where there’s no room for common ground. And, it’s exhausting. There is another way. Paul alluded to it in the text from his letter to the Church at Ephesus I quoted above. Our true enemy is not that person who just cut us off on the freeway. It’s certainly not the Trans person who we saw at the grocery. In fact, no one is our true enemy. That position is reserved for what Paul described as “rulers,” Authorities,” and “Cosmic Powers.” In today’s vernacular those are referred to as Systems of Oppression. That includes Systems that instigate racism that are baked into our culture as well as our founding document. They include Systems that objectify people based on gender or gender identity. Capitalism is a System that only exists on the backs of others. And, politics is a System that guarantees that the status quo is maintained for all of the other Systems. Let me give you a real-life example. Donald Trump. For some he is the return of Christ, a savior in flawed clothing. Others see him as the incarnation of the Anti-Christ. It’s not possible for both to be true. But, it possible that neither is true. The Systems that control society and culture allow for the rise of people like Trump. But, he is as much of a victim of those Systems as any other person. Let me state it again, Donald Trump is as much of a victim of those Systems as any other person. Please, don’t throw stuff! Let me explain. If anyone thinks that a person who is down and out, say, an unhoused person is a victim, why couldn’t the person at the top of the food chain also be a victim of some other influence or power? I think that they can. Now, don’t get me wrong. I do not like Trump. Not even a little. I find him wholly out of touch with reality. His narcissism knows no bounds. He lies pathologically. He’s an abuser and a bully. There seems to be nothing in him that’s redeemable. But, redemption is not my call. That’s way above my pay grade. My task is simply to love. My brothers and sisters. My friends. My family. My…enemies? Yes, my enemies. Those who I could just as easily “Other” as they could “Other” me. When I stop to remember who my true enemies are, those powers, principalities, and systems, I find that I am able to lay aside my own presumptions and prejudices. I am free to live without the burdens of judgment and anger. More importantly, I am free to lift these others up to God and ask that God free them from the bonds that hold them as slaves to those Cosmic Forces. So, as I pray each morning I take a moment to remember folks like Donald Trump. I ask God to release him and his family from the chains that bind them. May it be so, Amen.
