Let me preface this by saying that I think that it is extremely dangerous to confuse religion with politics; mixing the two seems to always bring the former down more than it raises the latter up. Politics corrupts religion so easily that it is paramount that a person of faith zealously keep the inferior in submission to the superior (politics in submission to faith).
We all are well aware that in recent years the evangelical Christians have become a powerful force in American politics. They are now a base, if not THE base of the republican party. But why? How has this come to be? As I recall, several years back, the GOP began courting the evangelical Christians, presenting the party as a guardian of Christian values. A lot of American Christians accepted that idea and subsequently have become staunch republicans.
However, looking at the two major political parties from a Christian perspective, I'm a bit confused. When I compare Christian values to the values espoused by the GOP, the only compelling link that I see is abortion. As Christians, we believe in the sanctity of life . . . you know the rest. This is a very important issue for most Christians, and it is an issue that tends to split pretty cleanly along party lines.
But what about other moral and ethical issues? What about other Christian values? Taking good care of the earth is a very important Christian value. All life on this planet is holy, and all of creation is good. The GOP doesn't have the best track record on the environment.
What about the poor? There is some room for debate here, but not a lot -- the Democrats have been more consistent defenders of the poor. Taking care of the poor and needy is a central Christian value. Christ tells us that whatever we do for someone in need, it is as if we have done it for Him. This includes health care and the like.
There are other issues as well, far too much to get into all at once. It is enough to say here that the idea of the republican party as a defender of Christian values is a distortion and a deception. Abortion is the only thing that has been able to sell this idea. For many Christians, abortion trumps all other political issues; many view it as the slavery of our generation.
If the republicans didn't own the pro-life argument, they would soon lose their Christian base. If there was room in the democratic party for pro-life arguments, the republicans would lose their Christian base. Unless, and this is a big 'unless,' unless the Christians have been so fooled by the sale of the GOP as Christian that they are no longer able to tell the party from the faith.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Ego Trip
"The doors, the doors, in wisdom let us attend." Shut the doors to the senses. Close them one at a time until you have closed all six. Lock them securely.
Incence is a useless stick until it burns itself away into beautiful fragrance.
Cut off the ego. It is nothingness grasping at everything.
What does it want? It wants to be admired, for everything. It wants to be admired for its looks; for its intelligence; for its talent; for its courage; for its spirituality; for its athleticism.
But what is admiration but a vaprous ghost? What if no one admires me for my looks, my mind, my athletic prowess? What if no one admires me for my courage or my spirituality? What if I never become a great author? What if I have none of these things? What if I am none of these things? What if no one admires me? What then have I lost? Nothing! I have lost nothing because admiration is a thing that no one can possess at all. It is not mine. It is not a part of me.
Incence is a useless stick until it burns itself away into beautiful fragrance.
Cut off the ego. It is nothingness grasping at everything.
What does it want? It wants to be admired, for everything. It wants to be admired for its looks; for its intelligence; for its talent; for its courage; for its spirituality; for its athleticism.
But what is admiration but a vaprous ghost? What if no one admires me for my looks, my mind, my athletic prowess? What if no one admires me for my courage or my spirituality? What if I never become a great author? What if I have none of these things? What if I am none of these things? What if no one admires me? What then have I lost? Nothing! I have lost nothing because admiration is a thing that no one can possess at all. It is not mine. It is not a part of me.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
The List
What are your four favorite movies?
Mine are The Mission; Cool Hand Luke; The Matrix; and Fight Club
Mine are The Mission; Cool Hand Luke; The Matrix; and Fight Club
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Episode IV: A New Hope

Some dreams die hard; some don't die at all. For me, the idea of living communally is so central to my ideology that it is never far from my thoughts. What can I say, I was raised on a fishing resort with my parents, my grandparents, and my uncle. Everyone lived together and shared the work (except for me because I was too little -- maybe that's why my memories are so fond). It was a wonderful way to live, and I have wondered again and again throughout the various stages of my life how it would be possible to re-create a similar situation, living together with friends or family.
Six years ago several of us were talking quite seriously about trying to set up some sort of community. We already bought groceries together, made meals together, helped each other out whenever there was a need. It was a good dream, but the timing was wrong: our resources were too meager at the time.
A few years later, we found ourselves actually living in the same house with several of you, sharing our days and our responsibilities, and the garden that we started.
It all makes me wonder about community living/communal living. How can it be done, or rather, how can it be done well? I've done some research on communes and found that most of them fail abismally. It seems that too often, communes are the brainchild of idealistic youth, strong on hope but often lacking in pragmatism, wisdom, and resources. On the other end of the spectrum, you have retirement communes. I've only read a bit about these. They seem to work better, but I can't help but wonder if such late communal living is missing too many of the benefits for which people decide to live together in the first place.
This brings me to middle-age communal living. I cannot help but wonder if people in their thirties and forties (that's most of us) should be the ones thinking about communal living. We have the resources and the earning potential, not to mention more maturity than we had in our twenties. At the same time, we are still young enough to reap the full benefits of communal living. It seems that there is so much that we could share, so many benefits on both personal and financial levels, that we should really consider the idea. I have so many thoughts on this topic that I'll publish them in a separate post, so this won't get too long.
However, before I close this, let me ask a few questions:
1) What would be necessary for the creation of a viable community?
a. In financial terms, how close to a metropolitan area would a community need to be?
b. What social conditions would need to exist? In other words, what would be required in
terms of shared values?
2) Preferences:
a. What degree of autonomy would be most likely to make such a community work?
b. How much land would be desirable, per family?
c. Is the idea of a shared business venture (farmers' market; bed and breakfast; etc.)
appealing?
I know that some of you are interested in this idea because we've talked about it before. One thing that I like about it is that there is no hurry at all. This is a dream that has persisted for me, and rather than withering like a raisin in the sun, it has only evolved. So, as far as I am concerned, if this is something that could happen five or ten years down the road, I would be happy with that. Besides, a successful community requires serious planning.
Six years ago several of us were talking quite seriously about trying to set up some sort of community. We already bought groceries together, made meals together, helped each other out whenever there was a need. It was a good dream, but the timing was wrong: our resources were too meager at the time.
A few years later, we found ourselves actually living in the same house with several of you, sharing our days and our responsibilities, and the garden that we started.
It all makes me wonder about community living/communal living. How can it be done, or rather, how can it be done well? I've done some research on communes and found that most of them fail abismally. It seems that too often, communes are the brainchild of idealistic youth, strong on hope but often lacking in pragmatism, wisdom, and resources. On the other end of the spectrum, you have retirement communes. I've only read a bit about these. They seem to work better, but I can't help but wonder if such late communal living is missing too many of the benefits for which people decide to live together in the first place.
This brings me to middle-age communal living. I cannot help but wonder if people in their thirties and forties (that's most of us) should be the ones thinking about communal living. We have the resources and the earning potential, not to mention more maturity than we had in our twenties. At the same time, we are still young enough to reap the full benefits of communal living. It seems that there is so much that we could share, so many benefits on both personal and financial levels, that we should really consider the idea. I have so many thoughts on this topic that I'll publish them in a separate post, so this won't get too long.
However, before I close this, let me ask a few questions:
1) What would be necessary for the creation of a viable community?
a. In financial terms, how close to a metropolitan area would a community need to be?
b. What social conditions would need to exist? In other words, what would be required in
terms of shared values?
2) Preferences:
a. What degree of autonomy would be most likely to make such a community work?
b. How much land would be desirable, per family?
c. Is the idea of a shared business venture (farmers' market; bed and breakfast; etc.)
appealing?
I know that some of you are interested in this idea because we've talked about it before. One thing that I like about it is that there is no hurry at all. This is a dream that has persisted for me, and rather than withering like a raisin in the sun, it has only evolved. So, as far as I am concerned, if this is something that could happen five or ten years down the road, I would be happy with that. Besides, a successful community requires serious planning.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Two Christmases

I just celebrated Christmas, both of them. I think that we've all heard before the voices of people bemoaning the excesses and business of the Christmas season, glanced over article after article offering tips for de-stressing the holidays. I think a large percentage of people are coming to the conclusion that Christmas, as it is currently celebrated in America, is out of balance, somewhat out of control. But the conclusion that I have come to this Christmas is that there are actually two very distinct holidays that are taking place at the same time: Christian Christmas and secular Christmas.
After a year of sadly neglecting my spiritual disciplines, I decided that I would make a concerted effort to participate in this advent season. I resolved to pray and fast according to the practice of the Church. As part of my regular prayer time, I decided to read the Philokalia (a compilation of Orthodox monastic writings). As I read and prayed, one idea became more and more clear: the key to prayer is the abandonment of distractions, the discovery of silence. The writings emphasize a detachment from worldy cares of all sorts, all appetites, all possessions.
Meanwhile, I couldn't help but feel that secular Christmas is a daunting barrage of distractions.
And all this time, I have been attempting to participate in this advent season with quiet reverence and anticipation. I don't really have anything against secular Christmas per se; I just prefer Christian Christmas. I prefer the season of quiet contemplation and anticipation.
After a year of sadly neglecting my spiritual disciplines, I decided that I would make a concerted effort to participate in this advent season. I resolved to pray and fast according to the practice of the Church. As part of my regular prayer time, I decided to read the Philokalia (a compilation of Orthodox monastic writings). As I read and prayed, one idea became more and more clear: the key to prayer is the abandonment of distractions, the discovery of silence. The writings emphasize a detachment from worldy cares of all sorts, all appetites, all possessions.
Meanwhile, I couldn't help but feel that secular Christmas is a daunting barrage of distractions.
And all this time, I have been attempting to participate in this advent season with quiet reverence and anticipation. I don't really have anything against secular Christmas per se; I just prefer Christian Christmas. I prefer the season of quiet contemplation and anticipation.
Friday, November 30, 2007
The Order and Chaos of Nature
I just stepped in from a hike through the Grand Forest on Bainbridge Island, Washington. The forest is quite nice, if you like all spongy and mossy (which I do). The dominant trees are douglas-fir and Western Red Cedar, but none of these are old growth trees, so there is a proliferation of smaller plant life under the moderate canopy: Sword Fern; Huckleberry; and a ton of other plants that I'm not familiar with. The relative density of plants creates a habitat for lots of small animals, various birds and squirrels.
Anyway, as I looked into the messy tangle of plants, I remembered a line from The Mission: referring to the jungle, Father Gabriel says, "It's a trifle overgrown." This, in turn, made me think of a comment that one of you had made to me privately, saying that left on its own, nature tends toward chaos. This comment reminded me of the Genesis passage in which God tells the people to subdue the earth.
This is all very fascinating to me because I have always been of the camp that views the natural world as balanced and ordered, self-balancing and self-ordering. Once again, you my friends are pushing me into more nuanced ways of viewing the world.
I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this topic.
Anyway, as I looked into the messy tangle of plants, I remembered a line from The Mission: referring to the jungle, Father Gabriel says, "It's a trifle overgrown." This, in turn, made me think of a comment that one of you had made to me privately, saying that left on its own, nature tends toward chaos. This comment reminded me of the Genesis passage in which God tells the people to subdue the earth.
This is all very fascinating to me because I have always been of the camp that views the natural world as balanced and ordered, self-balancing and self-ordering. Once again, you my friends are pushing me into more nuanced ways of viewing the world.
I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this topic.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
An Old Analogy that I've always wanted to turn into a Drinking Game
I came up with the following analogy several years ago:
Each person is like a glass of alcohol (this is off to a good start already, isn't it?). So, you take three people; one is like a glass with Vodka; one is like a glass with Kahlua; one is like a glass with cream (OK, cream isn't alcohol, but I need it for the analogy). Each person-glass contains her own substance and some empty space. Each one brings something unique to the table. Still, each one alone is incomplete. However, together, they can become so much more than what they are alone: the Kahlua pours some of herself into Vodka; Vodka pours some of himself into Kahlua, and together they become Black Russians. They have given and taken, and as a result, each has become more complicated, more nuanced, more complete. Still, they each have empty room in the glass, so Cream pours some of herself into them, and they pour themselves into her, and they all become White Russians (this would be even more fun making Long Island Iced Tea).
Friendship is like this analogy: each person contains something unique to offer the world and some empty space to receive the world. When we give and receive from friends, we become more whole, more complete people. Conversely, when we fail to receive, we remain limited. When we fail to give, we deny others an opportunity to become more. I have allowed my friends to shape my life in various ways, and I am a better person thanks to all of you (seriously, I'd be even worse if it weren't for your influence).
Cheers
Each person is like a glass of alcohol (this is off to a good start already, isn't it?). So, you take three people; one is like a glass with Vodka; one is like a glass with Kahlua; one is like a glass with cream (OK, cream isn't alcohol, but I need it for the analogy). Each person-glass contains her own substance and some empty space. Each one brings something unique to the table. Still, each one alone is incomplete. However, together, they can become so much more than what they are alone: the Kahlua pours some of herself into Vodka; Vodka pours some of himself into Kahlua, and together they become Black Russians. They have given and taken, and as a result, each has become more complicated, more nuanced, more complete. Still, they each have empty room in the glass, so Cream pours some of herself into them, and they pour themselves into her, and they all become White Russians (this would be even more fun making Long Island Iced Tea).
Friendship is like this analogy: each person contains something unique to offer the world and some empty space to receive the world. When we give and receive from friends, we become more whole, more complete people. Conversely, when we fail to receive, we remain limited. When we fail to give, we deny others an opportunity to become more. I have allowed my friends to shape my life in various ways, and I am a better person thanks to all of you (seriously, I'd be even worse if it weren't for your influence).
Cheers
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