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ALIENS IN AMERICA!

 

ALIENS IN AMERICA!

j. SNODGRASS

March 2017

AMERICAN PIE

There’s an old joke about a space-alien who beamed down into a seedy motel and demanded that a couple there show him how Earthlings reproduce. The couple protested at first, but finally agreed to do what they were there to do anyway, and when they were done the woman said “and that’s how we make babies.” The alien looked puzzled: “So? Where is it?” “Oh, now it takes another nine months to gestate.” “Nine months?” the alien asked, “So why was he in such a hurry?”

We’re hearing a lot right now about the dangers of “Aliens” in America, but North America has already seen plenty of “Alien Invasions.” But before we get to space-creatures and refugees, it makes a certain sense to begin with an immigrant who’s done so well here that most of us think of it as a native and couldn’t image America without it. I’m not saying “it” because I consider immigrants inhuman, but because the immigrant I’m talking about is the apple. Our modern apple was originally a native of Kazakhstan, an on-again-off-again section of Russia, and from there it spread by traders on the old Silk Road through Asia and Europe, where it swapped pollen with some native trees, sowing its wild…apples… The Chinese learned to select desirable traits by grafting trees together, and traded this knowledge to the Romans, who cultivated twenty-three types of apple on plantations throughout Europe.

The apple got a bad reputation because of the whole “Garden of Eden” thing, but actually the Bible never names the forbidden fruit. It does clearly say that Adam and Eve were standing under a fig-tree when the crime went down, and it’s only Christian logic that deduced the anonymous fruit under the fig-tree must have been an apple (the misunderstanding comes from Latin, “Malus,” apple, resembling “Malum,” bad, giving us the phrase “bad apple”). Which doesn’t mean apples didn’t have certain pagan associations – in English legend, King Arthur’s magic sword Excalibur comes from Avalon, literally “the island of apple trees.”

The English brought their grafted apple trees to America, but ran into a problem – the immigrant trees, like the immigrant settlers, did not do well on this new soil. The apple-tree, like the English colonist, would have to adapt to this new world, go a little bit wild and native, becoming something distinctly American. We’ve all heard the story of Johnny Appleseed, wandering around planting apple nurseries (from seeds – it sounds like a great coincidence, but actually “Appleseed” was not his last name). But we can forget that when you eat an apple, you can’t grow that same tree from one of the seeds inside – actually the five seeds in an apple will grow five different trees, and the odds of any of them producing fruit like the apple you ate are astronomically small. There’s an expression, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” but actually, every seed in every apple will grow a different tree, diversity is the apple’s reproductive strategy. So why was Johnny Appleseed canoeing around young America planting random trees totally unlikely to produce edible fruit? Because early Americans didn’t eat apples – they drank them, in the form of alcoholic cider and applejack whiskey (remember, the only way to keep apple-juice from turning to alcohol is refrigeration, which was still a hundred years away). Michael Pollan writes that we’ve mythologized Johnny Appleseed as an American Saint Francis, but really he was closer to the Greek god of wine, Dionysus.

Although the apple is immigrant, there is also something distinctly American about it: European and Asian trees could not grow here, offspring of lofty aristocrat breeds withered and disappeared, but random nameless seeds could mingle in these American soils and climates, persevering, experimenting, and one day, maybe a generation or two down the line – Jackpot! Spawning a tree of apples that could be picked and eaten – some of these random-chance winners are the celebrities of the fruit world: MacIntosh, Jonathan, Golden Delicious, and they’ve since been grafted and cloned all over the country (and in some cases, clones have been exported to grow in Europe and Asia as well). This humble immigrant, working hard, adapting, succeeding and spawning massive franchises is so American that we use the apple as a standard of patriotic comparison, saying something is “American as Apple Pie.”

But now I should really shut up about the apple being an immigrant – I’m afraid Donald Christ is going to uproot the trees, deport the orchards back to Kazakhstan, where they’ll immediately be executed for acting too Westernized. “You were once proud bitter Russian, now you are sweet, round American.” “No please – I’m still red! Don’t shoot!”

SPACEMEN?

Can you imagine if aliens came to Earth now and said “Take me to your leader”? “No, your English is not so good – what you meant to say was ‘Me take your leader.’ Go on – take him. Please!” How embarrassing for our species. If they came I’d be tempted to say “Um, I’m a chimpanzee, I voted for Bobo. Not my president.” (It’s all you hear today when you walk past the zoo, all those animals in their different languages chirping and roaring “Not My President” over and over). Full of immigrants, the zoo, all the super-stars, the Lions, Elephants, Zebras, Hippos, Apes, all African and mostly Muslim. They come to America as refugees and immediately find themselves in concentration camps. “Um hey – I was a certified nurse in my herd of Zebras, do my credits transfer here? You don’t speak zebra? Alright um, could you send someone who does? I’ll just be waiting…in this cage.”

I never have been much interested in space-aliens. I believe that other forms of life exist on other planets because there’s an infinity-to-one chance they do, and a one-to-infinity chance they don’t. But our whole idea of aliens coming down and inspiring the Egyptians, Mayans and Babylonians sounds to me like a flimsy excuse to blame someone else for the great fascist Empires in history. But I still enjoy alien movies – when I was a child I loved Star Wars. Then it was time to grow up and admit that Star Trek is cooler.

Our cultural entertainment representations of alien life teach us interesting things about ourselves. We generally expect aliens to be basically human in shape because it’s cheaper for special-effects, and we can’t imagine that anything else could represent a fully-formed intelligent being – we even use the word “spaceman,” as if any extraterrestrial life must still be essentially human (the most common exception is when we see aliens in insect-form, representing the next in line to inherit the earth – exo-skeletal telepathic insectoid aliens are the most frightening to us). But even in insect form, your average space-alien stands upright, between five and seven feet tall. If there is life on other planets, who’s to say it’s not microscopic to us? Or that we and the Earth wouldn’t be microscopic to it? And why would it come looking for us? We imagine aliens on a cultural and technological trajectory parallel to ours, maybe ahead or behind us but on the same basic path – why? And if there is life on a billion other planets, was it also created by our American God and did white Jesus die for its sins?

Were ancient Egypt, Babylon and Mexico visited by high-tech aliens? I don’t know or care. But I do know the American continent was visited by high-tech alien zombies called Columbus and Cortez and John Winthrop and William Bradford. They arrived from a dying Old World in fantastical ships with futuristic weapons and microscopic alien germs that decimated the Native population. A swarm of zombie-Christians, controlled by insectoid queens like Isabella and Elizabeth, “You will be assimilated, resistance is futile.” I read recently that Native Americans suffer from “post-Apocalyptic Stress Disorder.” It’s what comes from being corralled in third-world nations called Reservations. Naturally it’s our nightmare that the same thing will happen to us, whether from the Middle East or from Mars.

In 1938, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, both sons of Jewish immigrants, created a fictional immigrant icon. They gave him a name hearkening back to Nietzsche‘s ideal man, the worldly hero who would rescue humanity from otherworldly Christianity and its lust for destruction. This concept and character had the German name of Ubermensch, loosely translated into English as Superman. A refugee whose parents sent him in a tiny ship from a dying planet (recalling the old Hebrew story of Moses in the basket). And arriving on Earth he performed two incredible feats: one, he saved the world a zillion times as a flamboyant flying superhero. But his other spectacular act was even more impressive: he put on a shirt and tie, got a job and paid his taxes as the bland, forgettable American citizen Clark Kent, the perfect legal alien.

This was the great immigrant story – he didn’t come to change America into his homeland, even though he had great powers and some people wanted him to be a god, he did not use his abilities to undermine or destroy or replace truth, justice and the American way. He became an icon of truth, justice and the American way. Yes, he also became a sort of fashion-icon, and sometimes children will tie a bed-sheet around their necks and jump off the furniture (dangerous!). But even after eighty years of Superman you don’t see that many people on the sidewalk wearing their underwear outside of their pants. Superman is so American that we can forget he’s a space-alien – and a secretly Jewish alien! He remains a testament to the Jewish immigrant’s dream: to not get harassed and killed, and if that works out, get a steady job and help people when you can.

Superman is a fictional character (although most of us know more about Superman than we do about the person living next door, even if we’ve never opened a comic book). There are countless other immigrants and refugees who have lived a similar story, including the alien in my life, my Mom. With her parents, she crawled under a barbed-wire fence to escape from Soviet Hungary in 1956, at the age of eleven, and passed through Ellis Island into America. She quickly learned the English language, went to school and college and seminary, married a soldier and then a minister (and later, a former Intelligence Agent). She spent most of her career as a social-worker, assisting displaced home-makers to enter the workforce, and her four adult children are two lawyers (one of them a veteran), a minister, and a college teacher. Now she is a grandmother – I married the daughter of a Jamaican immigrant, my sister married a man from India, and our combined five children are strong and adorable as only mixed-race kids can be.

My mother is not a terrorist (except insofar as all mothers are terrorists to their young). And neither she nor any of her offspring has ever spent one day on welfare – we have not been a burden on the system or the taxpayer. We work hard like immigrants do. And we pay taxes so that obese diabetic inbred hicks can sit around cashing welfare checks, watching reality TV, swilling Mountain Dew, talking trash about mongrel races, and voting for fascists. And when I hear about refugees from Syria, Somalia and Mexico, I think, that’s my mother, she wants to work hard and raise children in America, tomorrow’s doctors, lawyers, ministers, teachers, soldiers and social-workers. And to be the parents of a new crop of beautiful mixed-race babies.

BACK TO THE APPLE

Fascist captain of automotive industry Henry Ford wanted America to be a melting pot – being a steel-man he imagined a forge in which metals melt, “impurities” burn away and steel is homogenized. But America is more like a stew of international spices, a genetic jambalaya. And we humans aren’t the only ones doing it. We don’t necessarily think of trees as sexual beings but they are, and apple-trees are particularly sleazy and promiscuous, you could even say…seedy (terrible role-models for our children, terrible). A commune of apple-trees, which, by the way, is a nudist colony for half of each year, they’re not just standing around with their balls and blossoms hanging out, they’re actually having apple-sex. What we politely call an “orchard” is really an orgy. At the risk of saying something crude, and really it’s not inappropriate because it’s a biological fact: an apple is a tree’s testicle. You wish you hadn’t heard it, but you know it’s true.

Prohibition laws targeted apple orchards, wild ghettos of sexual abandon, known to produce sour spitters good for nothing but the distillery. Orchards were targeted for their use in producing alcohol, but the result was also the neutering of the American apple. In the last hundred years, American apple-growers have forbidden promiscuity and (gasp) mixed marriage of the natural apple, insisting instead on cloning a few sweet breeds, the famous MacIntosh, Delicious, Granny Smith, etc. This is why you can buy the same six apples anywhere in America, but it’s very hard to find any of the untold thousands of other varieties. Most of today’s American apple-trees are direct clones cut from six or seven original trees (which were, themselves, once mutants).

Unfortunately our squeamish insistence that all American apples be good Christians, virgin-born and consubstantial (yes it’s a word – look it up) has created some unforeseen side-effects. Today, America’s apples are as inbred as Trump voters (a majority of American apples actually voted Republican. Because they don’t know that they’re children of immigrants. And now he’s gutting the EPA, which is the only medicare trees get, they’re starting to use words like “im-peared,” and “im-peach” – that’s apple humor, nobody thinks it’s funny but they don’t give a fig). Genocidal purges of apple diversity and massive cloning of a few types are causing the American apple-tree to become more vulnerable to evolving fungus and bacteria, insects and viruses – modern American apples require more pesticide than any other commercially grown food. An apple a day used to keep the doctor away…now it will give you cancer.

The fate of the apple is uncertain. Our experiment in weeding out apple diversity to promote genetic uniformity bears an eery similarity to Ireland’s reliance on a single breed of potato in the early 1800s. If we refuse to allow the apple to enact its own survival strategy of reproductive freedom, we may well see an apple-famine in our lifetime. And if we deny the mixing, merging, melding of human immigrants that has made America successful, we will summon a genetic and intellectual and cultural famine – inbred Americans are far more susceptible to parasites called “Republicans,” and highly contagious viruses like ignorance and bigotry.

What makes America strong and healthy is the same thing that brings strength and health in the plant world: diversity. We nevr were meant to be a stagnant indoor pool, but a flowing river fed by many streams. If America ever was great, it was because of reckless and exuberant experimentation. And that is the only way we can “make America great again.” Some of us might want to support diversity because it’s philosophically “right” or because it’s “nice” or “friendly” – that’s fine, I’m proud of that, but I’m just too selfish to do it. I support diversity for selfish reasons – because it’s viable, because it’s healthy, because it works. I support diversity because it’s good for my children, I want them to benefit from the best of every culture, every genetic strength and immunity, every flavor of food and art and literature and philosophy. Diversity isn’t just “nice” and “good,” it’s also an essential part of our survival, like putting different colors on your dinner-plate. If history and biology teach us anything, we thrive from diversity and wither without it. Also – eat an apple every now and then.

SOURCES

Michael Pollan – The Botany of Desire

And a bunch of other stuff.

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IN (what) GOD (do) WE TRUST (?)

IN (what) GOD (do) WE TRUST (?)

Almost two hundred years after America’s revolutionary war against the British Empire, there was an independence movement by another English colony (which, ironically, had also once belonged to Indians). But as India looked at its options, with a keen eye on the success of its elder cousin America, one of the freedom-movement leaders urged caution. Muhatma Gandhi warned: “That you cannot serve God and [wealth] is an economic truth of the highest value. We have to make our choice. Western nations today are groaning under the heel of the monster-god of materialism… I have heard many of our countrymen say that we will gain American wealth but avoid its methods. I venture to suggest that such an attempt if it were made is foredoomed to failure.”

Gandhi – he’s so cute. Close your eyes, see his face – he’s adorable, like a muppet. But it turns out India didn’t just love him for his looks. He also thought things and said things and wrote things. I guess when I was young I thought he won independence by flashing that endearing smile. That’s not just because I wasn’t paying attention in school. It turns out his face is welcome in our culture but his voice is not. He was dangerous. Even in this little fragment. He starts by quoting Jesus, “you cannot serve God and wealth” (Luke 16:13). Though Gandhi was a Hindu and not a Christian, he really admired Jesus the non-violent protestor against Roman impirial domination. But Gandhi does not say that Jesus is the god of America – instead, he refers to a “monster-god of materialism.” As if we all worship some capitalist Cookie-Monster. Now I know what you’re thinking – “Whoa there, Geronimo, a Hindu accusing us of having ‘monster-gods’!? Who worships the six-armed dominatrix and the elephant-headed belly-dancer? You’re the one with blue gods that eat cookies!”

But let’s hold onto this for a moment, because I think the monster-god of materialism spawned a robber-baron-messiah and sixty million American Christians dumped old gentle Jesus to worship him (now, strictly from a business perspective, as a contractor assigned to destroy the world, Jesus has been chronically late – maybe the new Platinum Christ can get the demolition done faster. With the full thrust of his earth-shaking tweets). We’ve had our doubts about Jesus – bearded Palestinian, you say you’re from Nazareth but you were born in Bethlehem and then traveled to Egypt and back? Show me the birth certificate. What a strange thing to celebrate Christmas 2016 when the USA has just changed its motto to: “There’s no room at the inn.”

Gandhi warns that no nation can have America’s material wealth without groaning under the heel of this monster-god (and India, like many other “developing” nations, has since learned that American-style wealth for a few must come with American-style pitiless poverty for the many).

Maybe this is going too far, letting a Hindu from India describe America’s god, so let’s turn to another famous Indian…American Indian…man, that’s so confusing. One native author notes, at least Columbus wasn’t sailing around looking for Turkey. Anyway, the legendary Chief Seattle observed, “Your God loves your people and hates mine… The white man’s God cannot love his red children or he would protect them… Your God seems to us to be partial…your religion was written on tables of stone by the iron finger of an angry God.” Is the white man’s god an angry judge? I guess we can’t necessarily count on a Native American to be unbiased on the subject, so let’s just pick an American at random. And to prove how random, we’ll choose an American whose last name means “unknown.” Malcolm X. He said, “This is who she means when she says ‘In God We Trust’ – that blue-eyed god, that blonde-haired god, that pale-skinned god who blessed them to kidnap you and me and bring us here and make us slaves.”

AMERICAN CIVIL RELIGION

In 1967, Robert Bellah, wrote a groundbreaking study proposing that “while some have argued that Christianity is the national faith…few have realized that there actually exists alongside of and rather clearly differentiated from the churches an elaborate and well-institutionalized civil religion in America.”

Is Americanism a religion? I don’t know. As a Religious Studies teacher I always start and end the semester by telling my students I don’t know what “religion” is – I can’t really define it, I just know it when I smell it (and most of them smell old. Although ironically it’s the earliest religions, the primal tribal ones, that still smell fresh. Anyway…). Does Americanism have the stuff that other religions have? If you stripped out all the Christian stuff, the Christmas decorations and Easter goodies and trick-or-treat, which are all actually pagan traditions… Does Americanism have temples, myths, rituals, scriptures, hymns, holidays?

Aside from Christianity America still has plenty of holidays: Labor Day, Columbus Day, Thanksgiving, Martin Luther King Day, President’s Day, Memorial Day, the Fourth of July. Some that center around bonding the community through animal sacrifice – the 4th of July pig and Thanksgiving Turkey who die for our sins. Once every four years we celebrate Inauguration Day – the root word “Augur” meaning to divine the future by conjuring spirits, generally by touching something that belonged to a dead person. You may have noticed – in American Civil Religion, in court-houses and presidential inaugurations, people put their hand on the Bible but that’s got nothing to do with reading it or knowing what’s inside. The Bible is strictly there as a fetish, an idol, a devotional object, touched to make a connection with the dead.

The Bible is not the sacred scripture of Americanism (some people want the Ten Commandments in courthouses, but American Law only prosecutes three of them). But we do have ancient cryptic writings, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Starr Report. We have hymns, the National Anthem, “America the Beautiful,” “Friends in Low Places.” Goodness knows Americanism has a debatable creation-story and loads of mythology – George Washington is so mythical that I don’t even know if he technically existed. Americanism has martyrs, Lincoln, King, Kennedy and scores of fallen soldiers who die for our sins (or get stuck in long lines at the Veterans’ Hospital for our sins).

American Civil Religion has Temples, the Greek Temples of Zeus-Abraham-Lincoln and Apollo-Thomas-Jefferson in the Capital, the Egyptian Obelisk Washington Monument. America has a totem animal – Benjamin Franklin suggested the generous turkey, but the idea was shot down in favor of the predatory Eagle, which was promptly hunted to near-extinction.

The great Robert Bellah did a much better job of explaining this than I just did – he had years of research, I just said a bunch of stuff that popped into my head. But his point, that Americanism is a religion on its own, distinct from Chrsitianity, with its own myths, totems and rituals, remains a fascinating avenue of thought (and yes, I admit I’ve done some drunk driving on that intellectual avenue). But if Americanism is a relgion apart from Christianity…then who is the god of American Civil Religion?

IN WHAT GOD?

Should there be prayer in public schools? A contentious issue in America today. And yet when I hear about it, I can’t help thinking, “but there’s already prayer in schools – the pledge of allegiance, which requires American children to worship a totem.” My children break three of the Ten Commandments every morning while saying the pledge to the flag – worshiping other gods, worshiping an idol, and taking the Lord’s name in vain. If they mindlessly recite the pledge without knowing what it means? Then they’re also bearring false witness. And if they knew that I object to children saying the pledge? They’d be dishonoring their father too – half of the Ten Commandments broken before ten in the morning! What a start for the day. I’m surprrised they haven’t murdered someone by noon.

The Pledge of Allegiance was first drafted by Christian Socialist Francis Bellamy in 1892: “I pledge allegiance to my Flag and the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” It did not mention “God” but still it was controversial because it allowed girls, blacks and immigrants to say “my flag” (this was later fixed) and “liberty and justice for all” – Bellamy’s Socialism rearing its ugly head at the end, and stangely enough this still remains. Then, ironically, it was Cold-War anti-Communism that got god into the pledge. In 1954, president Eisenhower declared, “From this day forward, the millions of our school children will daily proclaim in every city and town, every village and rural school house, the dedication of our nation and our people to the Almighty…. In this way we are reaffirming the transcendence of religious faith in America’s heritage and future; in this way we shall constantly strengthen those spiritual weapons which forever will be our country’s most powerful resource, in peace or in war.”

Eisenhower explains that the words “under god” were inserted to “strengthen…spiritual weapons” – religion was added to weaponize the pledge of allegiance (later it was Eisenhower who warned against the spiritual influence of the Military Industrial Complex…but he did not foresee the Spiritual Industrial Complex with its creeping militaristic influence). “One Nation Under God” was a weapon against the heahten Communists with their dangerous, heretical “Do Unto Others” and “Give to the Poor” mentality. The pledge still affirms with a sneaky stridency that only “One Nation” is “Under God.”

But what god is this? Perhaps the answer is on our dollar bill, right between the Egyptian Pyarmid and the Roman Eagle (notably absent is the Christian cross). The Yankee dollar used to be a check representing ownership of a certain amount of America’s hoarde of gold. But then the dollar was switched from the gold-standard to the god-standard, its value now is determined only by how much China believes that god loves America. When China believes god loves America best, the dollar is up, when China believes that god is cooling on America the dollar goes down. Not only is the dollar-value totally mythological, but we don’t even get to determine the value of the myth. Still we desperately trust god to love America best, because without that the almightly dollar would be powerless.

In what God do we trust? Who is this god who holds our nation together? At last we must turn to the scriptures, the sacred documents. The Constitution is silent about god, but the Declaration of Independence contains four fascinating references, first to “Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God” that support human independence. Then to the “Creator” who endows all men with certain inalienable rights. The third is a nod to “the Supreme Judge of the world,” and the last declares “a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence.”

We may hear the word “God” and affix all manner of colorful, kid-friendly ornamentation like “love” and “father” and “salvation” but none of these attributes are in the Declaration. In this document, god is the “Creator,” Provider, Protector and “Supreme Judge.” Bellah points out the irony that god in the Declaration is more like the legalistic Torah-God of Judaism than the loving savior-god of Christianity. This is the austere disciplinarian who endows “all men” with equality and rights, except for women, slaves, natives, etc – when the Declaration was penned, “all men” was only about one fifth of the population. This could be called the “One Fifth Compromise” – in which four fifths of Americans would not exist in the eyes of America’s god. And this has not dramatically changed.

George Michael, who passed away on Christmas day, once wrote a song called “Hand to Mouth” about Amerians driven to desperation by poverty, and one of them declares, “I believe in the gods of america. I believe in the land of the free. But no one told me that the gods believe in nothing. So with empty hands I pray. And from day to hopeless day, they still don’t see me.”

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GOOD? (A Sermon)

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GOOD? (A Sermon)

When Elizabeth and the kids and I moved into our neighborhood, there was a a short, squat house nearby, surrounded by trees. The house as been empty as long as we’ve been here, so we’ve considered those trees our neighbors. Trees make the best neighbors – they aren’t loud, and more importantly, they don’t complain about us being loud. And they never borrow your weed-whacker and bring it back broken, claiming it was broken to begin with.

In this last couple weeks, someone sent a big machine with a long arm and a claw…with a mechanical thumb…to demolish that old house. The machine played with the house, like a big cat toying with a wounded animal, or like a toddler playing with a stuffed animal. This machine shuffled down this house like it was made of playing-cards, then it started crunching – steel and glass, plaster and wood, brick and concrete and when we looked the next day, there was nothing where that old house used to be, just flattened dirt strewn with straw (presumably planted with grass seed). And I thought, “this is alright. That old abandoned house wasn’t doing any good for the neighborhood, now in a few months it’ll be a grassy clearing surrounded by trees. Instead of worrying about meth-heads using the house as a drug lab, we can worry about pot-heads using this forest glade for singalongs.”

It was nice, with that old abandoned house out of the way, to imagine that the land would belong to the trees again. When the people are away, the trees will play. They’ll just play reeeeeeeeally reeeeeeeeelly slowly. “Man, I thought those people would never leave – I’m gonna grow an Afro, maybe branch out, see if I can get a little of that sunshine over there and watch my favorite soap-opera, ‘Chasing Tail,’ starring the neighborhood squirrels. We can sit up all night telling scary stories. This one’s called… ‘Leave it to Beaver…’” “Don’t tell them that, they’ll have nightmares and leak sap all over the place.” “Nah, it’ll put vines on their chest.”

Of course it wasn’t the trees that had bought the property – trees don’t sign contracts, they just stare at the paper and say “His name was…Spruce…and you cut him down in his prime…beat him to a pulp…flattened him out and stapled him.” A couple days after the house was demolished, the machine came back for the trees. It clutched them by the trunk and pulled them up, then tapped them on the ground to shake the dirt off the roots. Like the trees were cigars, it tapped them on the ground. And Elizabeth said, “If God made the trees in His image and likeness we’re in big trouble.” And I looked around nervously “This is Christian country. If they hear you say that they’re gonna cut you down and use you for firewood.”

God looking like a tree – the very idea is preposterous. The Bible proves that, not only in what it says, but also by what it is, paper, a bunch of ground-up wood. Surely if God had some special interest in trees, He wouldn’t allow such a massacre of them to produce copies of a book for us to read. And right there on the first page it clearly says: “God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them.” (Genesis 1:27)

Ah, it’s so reassuring, such a relief to hear those words – to feel like God’s special love for us is tied up in God’s love for Godself. “How can I stay mad at you, when you look so much like me?” We want God to look a nice bearded old man – like Santa Claus, except wearing white and He’s eaten less Christmas cookies. We want a God who will watch us all the time, keep a careful list of all the bad stuff we do, and then throw out the list and give us the goodies anyway. And most important, Santa may be watching us all the time (a little creepy? A fat old man spying on your kids when they’re sleeping and awake?) he’s got the supernatural surveillance but he’s always somewhere else – he’s far away where he can’t interfere. He’s got the CIA spy-gear and the jackboots but he never comes kicking in your door to put a black bag over your head, he just slips in through the heating vents, plants the toys and goes back to base (I checked the toys last Christmas, by the way, they’re not manufactured in the North Pole anymore – apparently Santa Claus has moved his operation to Taiwan where the labor is cheaper, and his sleigh these days is called “Amazon Prime.” I should start calling my car that. “Amazon Prime.” I should call my wife that too. She’d love it).

MAMA

We have a powerful desire to humanize God – to make Him more like Santa Claus. We try to humanize nature too – “Mother Nature.” “Mommy nature, we’re sorry,” because we know mothers can’t resist empty apologies, our moms think we’re so cute. “We won’t do it again,” we already called, our friends are on their way over so we can do it again. That’s why we don’t say “Uncle Nature,” because when we make an environmental boo-boo we don’t want to hear “You ordered your bed, now sleep in it.” We want a Mommy to accept our hollow apologies and clean up our mess for us, “Oh, bless your heart, don’t worry, we’ll sweep it under this carpet called…the ocean.”

In Christianity it’s a sin to believe in “Mother Nature.” But if you just happen to have a statue of Mary in your garden, and your roses just happen to prosper? That’s innocent, right? I mean, what could be more innocent than an unwed teenaged mother?

We want nature to love us, and nature does love us – and not just for feeding the mosquitoes and hosting her beloved flu virus (“Thanks for the ride!” “Freeloading hippie, get a job, flu virus, you bum.”) but also for just being ourselves, adorable little rug-rats, critters, animals. Nature loves us, but nature doesn’t love us best. She gives us the same rules as every other species – “I want you to have friends, but keep the party small and don’t make a mess of the place.” Because when we let our population boom out of control she’ll send us to bed without supper, and if we trash nature’s house she’ll clean it up with tidal waves.

I love nature but I don’t really like nature. Nature is mouths and thorns and mosquitoes and animal crap on the ground when you’re walking and feel the sun on your face and your heart is beating and your problems seem inconsequential and… Aw! Aw man! Who left this here? Now all my problems seem insurmountable and I’ve gotta scrape this nature off my boots.

And nature communicates with us in feelings, instincts, mostly from our bellies and our swimsuit area. She doesn’t get it that we’re the nerds of the animal high school, we want our instructions clear. How do I pass this test? Couldn’t you put it in writing? And so we cling to our religions, which give us study guides for the final exam – a syllabus. For example, the Bible is divided into two Testaments – “Testament” meaning contract. And right there at that start of the first contract, God creates the world in a certain way, and begins telling people about how they should interact with it.

THE STORY

According to the creation story in the first chapter of Genesis, God dictated the formation of skies and land in six days. A seventeenth century bishop used Biblical chronological data to calculate that this process began on October 23rd, 4004 years before the common era. The land was flat and the sky was a hard, solid dome on top of it – if you can imagine one of those plastic bubbles that gumball machine toys come in, that’s the world that gets created in Genesis One. And the sun and moon chased each other around inside this bubble, and God made plants and animals and sea-monsters and birds and then little figurines of Godself. Once these little figurines, people, are in place, the whole structure can finally pass inspection, “Very Good,” and then God subcontracted human beings to oversee the whole business.

In the last few centuries, preachers and scientists have been playing tug-of-war over the logistics of this story, and we’ve generally come to agree that the world is more than six thousand years old, it’s round (we’ve all seen the photographs) and probably revolves around the sun. But there are other elements of this story that our culture has a harder time letting go of. The story tells us that Creation was complete when humanity appeared. It tells us that the human being is the final, the ultimate creature. The finished product. Well of course we are! History begins with us, everything before humanity was just prologue of bumbling bacteria and dimwitted dinosaurs, and history will end with us, if humanity ends there will be nothing but cockroaches picking at our trash. “Hey Keef, we’ve struck gold! A Twinkie, we’re set for life!” The world was made for humanity. Many of us here are not Biblical literalists, and yet many of us here still believe that the human race is the culmination of creation, and that when we’re finished the story is over forever.

We do love to debate about who made humanity – was humanity made by God, all at once? Or was humanity made by the world, gradually formed and refined by evolution and natural selection? Did Adam and Eve have furry tails and swing from trees? But our cultural debate about natural selection has nothing to do with monkeys. I mean, sure, it might be embarrassing to say you’re related to primates who play with their own feces, but anybody who’s ever raised a toddler can come to terms with that. The hardest thing about accepting natural selection is letting go of Supernatural selection – a promise from God that we as humans are exempt from the laws and limits that govern the survival of every other species. We are taught to believe that humanity is “too big to fail,” and that if we as a species crash, God will bail us out. And if we let go of that, our cherished cultural belief in a manifest destiny of expansion and renovation will be exposed as a reckless binge, an intoxicated rampage fueled by delusions of indestructibility.

In Genesis 1:28, God is reported to say, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over…every living thing that moves upon the earth.” Our culture is built on dominion over the earth, changing the land to suit our needs. And eliminating any creature that gets in our way. We might debate about whether or not it’s America’s God-given responsibility to police all the nations of the earth, but few of us would debate whether or not it’s humanity’s God-given responsibility to police all the species of the earth. Mark Twain observed, “We hunt the fly remorselessly; also the flea, the rat, the snake, the disease germ and a thousand other creatures which [God] pronounced good, and was satisfied with, and which we loudly praise and approve – with our mouths – and then harry and chase and malignantly destroy, by wholesale.”

As we debate the mechanics of the Genesis creation story, we can forget to look at the message of the creation story – God said each part of creation was good. Before people started messing with it. Maybe the story is telling us – before we charge in to filling, subduing and dominating, we should always take a look at creation and consider: “God said this was ‘Good’ as it is – are we really going to make it better?” Because many of our big box stores and parking lots are not an improvement (and all this bulk-buying and driving isn’t doing our figures any favors either). Civilization did not begin with some group of people ten thousand years ago saying “Hey! We’ve got a great idea! Let’s destroy the earth!” No – it began with some group of people ten thousand years ago saying “Let’s perfect the earth!” For ten thousand years, groups of people have been trying to perfect their environment, not to wreck it but to make it better. To make it easier to provide for themselves and their children.

Decades ago, I don’t know how many, someone stepped onto a plot of land in my neighborhood and said “I know what will make this perfect. We’ll clear a few of these trees, and build a small, humble house here.” And months ago, someone else stepped onto that plot of land and said, “I know what will make this perfect. We’ll knock down this old house, clear some more of these trees and…” How they intend to improve the neighborhood remains to be seen, but I’m told that they’re going to build a parking garage. That’s our modern idea of perfection – easy parking.

An eighteenth century French exile who called himself Voltaire composed a short novel called Candide, about a young man’s quest to make some sense of life. The search for meaning drags poor Candide like a rag-doll across the planet, making him witness and victim to countless atrocities born of nationalistic and religious fanaticism. By the end of the story, Candide has no illusions about countries or creeds, and when someone attempts to draw him into a philosophical discussion about life’s meaning, Candide calmly says, “We must tend the garden.”

We live in a time religious and political fanaticism, ideologies clash like clanging cymbals drowning out the noise of destruction around us as our culture attempts to perfect the world by turning it into a parking lot. And in all this noise we can easily miss that calm voice: “We must tend to the garden.” The garden needs our help, it’s true, but we must also let the garden tend to itself, because it is good. And when we acknowledge that the garden is good, we can stop trying to perfect it and let the garden tend to us.

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Sacrifice -or- The Gods Order Hamburgers

SACRIFICE -or- THE GODS ORDER HAMBURGERS

Table Burn

Above a shop window on Elmwood Avenue hangs a large picture of Muhatma Gandhi with his version of the Seven Deadly Sins: “Wealth without work. Pleasure without conscience. Science without humanity. Knowledge without character. Politics without principle. Commerce without morality. Worship without sacrifice.” Now before we all run off to the tattoo parlor, let’s take a moment to ponder the last one, “worship without sacrifice.” It sounds a little strange – sacrifice seems kind of…un-Gandhi-ish…but perhaps in our unspoken agreement to make him an honorary Christian, we can forget that while he deeply respected Jesus, Muhatma Gandhi was happily a Hindu.

As a teacher I find that sacrifice is a real blind spot as we modern Americans, with our mix of enlightenment and entitlement, enter into a study of religion. We might even lazily use animal/human sacrifice as a line of distinction between primitive and perfected religions – the only religion that still sacrifices animals in modern America is Santeria, which many of us have never even heard of. “The gods demand sacrifice!” shouts a Mayan-inspired priest in The Road to El Dorado, and those early agricultural religions are filled with it – the Sumerians, Babylonians and Egyptians, Aztecs, Incas and Mayans, even the Greeks, Romans, Celts and Vikings. From the very dawn of agriculture and Civilization, there was a Sumerian belief that the gods needed hamburgers, and had created mortals for the sole purpose of preparing them. That may sound idiotic. But every modern religion of Salvation begins with sacrifice, and they all retain it in some revised form.

“Sacrifice” literally means to make something sacred, and “Sacred” literally means pertaining to the realm of spirits and/or gods. So sacrifice means to transfer something from the physical realm to the spiritual realm, and this is usually accomplished by destroying it or by communally consuming it. The Christian Bible is divided into two Testaments, “Testament” coming from a Greek word meaning a promise you make while holding your testicles to demonstrate your willingness to sacrifice them if your words are proven false. I’m not making this up. Greek translators used the word “Testament” as an approximation of the Hebrew word for “Covenant,” which means an agreement sealed by cutting and sharing an animal.

In the first book of the Bible, Abel sacrifices a lamb, then Cain sacrifices Abel, and Noah who saved all those endangered animals lands the ark and sacrifices a bunch of them. Abraham’s treaty with God is formalized by the cutting of several animals, and we witness countless other sacrificial contracts carved throughout the Hebrew Bible. It is not until Abraham offers a giant cheeseburger that God grants his wish of a son, and then God considers eating the son too. We might think that this was the first call for child sacrifice but the Bible does not say so, and Abraham’s unquestioning compliance implies that it was nothing out of the ordinary. The Law set forth in the Torah contains numerous classifications of sacrifice, some of which are eaten by the defendant, the priest and God, and some of which are entirely burned to be eaten by God alone. The book of Leviticus specifies that all animal sacrifice must be conducted in the Jerusalem Temple, and so after its destruction in 70 CE animal sacrifice was replaced with an equivalent monetary offering that is still practiced in Judaism. But the Pesach/Passover Seder still requires the meat of a lamb, which must be ritualistically slaughtered by a Kosher butcher.

In Christianity, the “New Covenant” is a contractual renegotiation sealed with the blood of the Christ, often symbolized as a sacrificial lamb. And he is ritually eaten in reenactments of his last supper – depending on which Christian tradition one belongs to, portions of the Christ might be eaten once a year or several times a day. Jesus himself said that anyone who wants to follow him must be willing to take up the cross and submit themselves as a sacrifice, and we can see various responses to this call in traditions of Christian martyrdom and monasticism, even in the rallying call for the Crusades. Or we might just throw two bucks into a passing plate on a Sunday morning and call it even (many Christians today believe that God is on a strict heart-healthy diet of love, songs and prayers).

A tiny minority of Muslims believe in sacrificing one’s life to harm others. This stems from a strained interpretation of certain Qur’anic passages, but the Qur’an is manifestly clear on requiring every Muslim to make the Hajj pilgrimage and slaughter an animal there to be shared among the needy in Mecca (in modern times, these animals are butchered and packed to be shipped to charities around the world). In contrast to other sacrificial traditions, the Qur’an states that God does not eat a portion of the sacrificial meat.

In an ancient Veda of Hinduism, the world was created through the sacrifice and dismemberment of the original man – a supposition the Hindus share with their estranged cousins the Babylonians and Vikings. And who can forget the image of the indigo goddess Kali in her skirt of severed arms and necklace of human skulls, arousing dead Shiva back to life by gymnastic lap-dance? She wasn’t just made up for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Hinduism still retains the tradition of leaving plates of food in front of devotional figurines called Murtis. Even Buddhism, which has no gods, demands a sacrifice – the sacrifice of the eternal Self which in Hinduism would play chutes-and-ladders in eons of reincarnations. Siddhartha became the Buddha by giving up Siddhartha.

In the religion of American Nationalism we readily call war casualties a “sacrifice” for our culture, and apply the concept of “martyrdom” to murdered reformers. In modern times, many men and women will choose to “sacrifice” their prime reproductive years on the altar of career advancement, while others will “sacrifice” their career goals to raise children. Our forms of child sacrifice (signing our sons up for junior varsity football, sending our virgin daughters to college) and animal sacrifice (the Thanksgiving turkey that dies for our founding fathers’ sins, the cattle and pigs we barbecue on Independence Day) are more abstract but still recognizable.

Some of us in modern times may think of sacrifice as primitive and wasteful, and yet we can still see it, though abstracted, in modern traditions. When I think of organized religion’s current crisis – many people feeling like religion has no real connection to their life – I have to wonder if it has something to do with modern religions’ denial of their sacrificial roots. Free-market competition between American Christian denominations seems to have turned “salvation” into some sort of door- prize freebee, and so it’s no surprise if “salvation” doesn’t seem that valuable. Maybe “worship without sacrifice” is not such a great thing after all.

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Kingdom Come: Jesus and the Environment

Bathroom Sink Cross

Last week, Interfaith Action and the United Religions Initiative in Hendersonville NC presented an interfaith panel discussion about religion and environmentalism.  There was a Rabbi, a Muslim, a Wiccan Priestess, and I spoke about Christianity.  The main question was – what do our faith traditions tell us about how people are meant to live in relation to the rest of the community of life on earth?  Writing about Christianity and environmentalism proved to be too daunting and depressing, so I wrote about Jesus instead.

 

KINGDOM COME

 

In Genesis 1:28, God writes humanity a blank check from the bank of creation “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” Is this how Christians are meant to live in relation to the environment? What would Jesus do? As far as we know, Jesus was not fruitful, he didn’t increase a number of little Jesus Juniors, he didn’t own land, he didn’t build a plantation, and though he may have called himself a “Good Shepherd,” he doesn’t have any sheep during his ministry, so if he was a literal shepherd he must have been a bad one. More likely it was a metaphor. Jesus called farmers, fishermen and herders to quit their day-jobs and become a small tribe of nomadic foragers.

Jesus never says that God wants us to “rule the earth and subdue it” – actually he says the exact opposite: “Our father…your will be done on earth.” Instead of God telling humanity to tear the world apart and put it back together for our own comfort and convenience, Jesus taught his disciples to pray that humanity would give that dominion back. Instead of looking at nature and saying “What a mess, how can we make this better?” We’re supposed to ask “What was God’s intention here, and how can we cooperate? How can we fit in?”

Well that’s a really tough one, since Jesus our teacher hasn’t left any instructions for two thousand years. And his proteges, the disciples, could never understand him. But if we listen carefully, we find that Jesus did recommend teachers we can still listen to: “Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them… Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these… And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.” (Luke 12:24-31)

Jesus wasn’t telling us to rule the birds, he was telling us to learn from them. He wasn’t telling us to have lawns three quarters of an inch high in suburbia, he was telling us that we can learn from the plants. And most important, he wasn’t telling us to destroy this planet in a desperate grab for food, water and clothing – he was saying that when we look at God’s creation and agree that it’s good, and look for how humanity can fit in, we’ll have these things! And we don’t have to wait until after death – he says that when we cooperate with creation, we’ll have what we need to survive.

Of course many of us here don’t speak Raven – it’s not that hard actually, the word “caw” is like Shalom or Aloha, it means “hello, let’s eat, goodbye, whatever.” But if we really can’t learn from the birds and plants, Jesus recommended other teachers: In Mark 10:14 he says, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” Children will surprise you with their clarity of vision – this is good, this is bad, this is right, this is wrong. And we spend billions of dollars and hours teaching them shades of gray, teaching them that the world is more complicated than it looks. That they need to work hard, get stuff, pay bills, drive a car. I know my children would be much happier if their teachers were deer and bears and their classroom was a forest. Well that’s what education was, until people started this mutiny for world-dominion. Maybe someday instead of giving our children sit-still pills to crush their instinct for an eight-hour school-day, maybe someday we’ll give them God’s Kingdom instead, and let them teach us that the world is simple when we cooperate – it’s impossible we try to dominate.

Nature hates a makeover – reshaping this world is like the struggle to get a squirming toddler into church-clothes on Sunday morning, and yet we feel it’s our sacred responsibility to drag this world kicking and screaming into one of our utopian fantasies. Christian doctrine says not to get involved, to be “in the world but not of the world,” whatever that means. But when a crime is committed in plain sight, there’s no such thing as an “innocent bystander.”

John 3:16, maybe the most famous passage in the New Testament – mostly because of a belief that if you write this magic spell on a sign and hold it at a sporting event, it’s guaranteed your team will crush their enemies. I’m not going to recite the whole verse, but those first six words: “For God so loved the world.” Maybe it’s time we stopped destroying God’s world, maybe it’s time we stopped hating God’s world and waiting for a divine evacuation, maybe it’s time we forgive God’s world for being so savage and primitive and childish and “earthy.” God so loved the world – it is not a sin for Christians to love it too.

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Zechariah and John the Baptizer in the Bible and Qur’an

Zechariah and John in the Bible and Qur’an

All four of the Canonical Gospels contain accounts of John the Baptizer as a forerunner of Jesus. The Gospel of Luke attests that John and Jesus were cousins, and begins with a story of John’s conception: his father Zechariah was a high priest performing an incense offering in the Jerusalem Temple when an angel appeared. The messenger surprises the elderly Zechariah with the news that his aging wife Elizabeth will give birth (we are not told whether or not Zechariah has prayed for this). Zechariah is suspicious of this news, and he is struck dumb as a punishment for his disbelief: “Because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.” (Luke 1:20) Zechariah then cannot speak until the baby is delivered. A close reading of Zechariah’s story in the Qur’an reveals some interesting differences: he will pray for a son, and his silence will be a sign of God’s answer.

 

Sura 19:1 Sufficient, Guide, Blessed, Knowing, Truthful God.
19:2 A mention of the mercy of your Lord to His servant Zechariah –
19:3 When he called upon his Lord, crying in secret.
19:4 He said: “My Lord, my bones are weakened, and my head flares with gray hair, and I have never been unsuccessful in my prayer to You, my Lord.
19:5 And I fear for my kinsfolk after me, and my wife is barren, so grant me from Yourself an heir
19:6 Who will continue my work and continue the Children of Jacob. And make him, my Lord, acceptable to You.”
19:7 [An Angel called to him:] “Zechariah! We give you good news of a boy, whose name is John. We have never before made anyone his equal.”
19:8 He said: “My Lord, how shall I have a son, and my wife is barren, and I have reached extreme old age?”
19:9 He said: “So it will be. Your Lord says: ‘It is easy to Me, and indeed I created you before, when you were nothing.’”
19:10 He said: “My Lord, give me a sign.” He said: “Your sign is that you will not speak to people three nights, though you are in sound health.”
19:11 So he went forth to his people from the sanctuary and signaled to them: “Glorify God morning and evening.”
19:12 We said: “John, hold on to the Book with all your strength,” and We granted him wisdom when a child,
19:13 And kind-heartedness from Us and purity. And he was dutiful,
19:14 And kindly to his parents, and he was not insolent or disobedient.
19:15 And peace on him the day he was born and the day he died, and the day he is raised to life.

 

The most fascinating aspect of the Qur’anic report of John the Baptizer is that it’s not about John at all. He’s a secondary character in a story about Zechariah, whose prayer for a son is answered. The Qur’an gives no account of John’s adulthood, his baptisms or his interactions with Jesus. We are told only that he was “honorable and chaste, a prophet from among the good ones” (Sura 3:38) and that he was obedient to his father: “Surely they used to compete with one another in good deeds, and called upon Us, hoping and fearing, they were humble before Us.” (Sura 21:90) This competition in good deeds can be found in the Talmud: “What message did the Torah bring to Israel? Take upon yourselves the yoke of the kingdom of heaven, vie one with the other in the fear of God and practise loving deeds towards one another.” This vying does not mean that one will win and the other will lose, but that both will benefit from some friendly competition.

 

“The Book” that John is told to take hold of in Sura 19:12 could refer to the Torah, or to the ‘Mother of Books,’ God’s own book of wisdom. Zechariah, in his old age, wishes that God would replace him with another Temple priest, someone to continue the sacred traditions of Judaism. Those of us familiar with John in the Gospels know that the limb falls far from the tree, he goes shouting at people in the wasteland, far from the Temple and its sacrificial altars (he was a voice crying out, “In the wilderness [implied: not the Temple], prepare the way of the Lord.”). And without continuing the lineage of high priests, he gets incarcerated and decapitated for subversion. But in the Qur’an we are told only that John was a worthy successor to his father, and therefore an answer to Zechariah’s prayer. The announcement that “We have never before made anyone his equal” (Sura 19:7) recalls Jesus’ assessment of John, “A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet… I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater than John; yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” (Luke 7:26, 28)

 

LUKE 3:7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?
8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.
9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
10 And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?”
11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”

 

Though the Qur’an contains no scenes of John preaching, it has numerous parallels with his sermon. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance… Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Luke 3:7-9) John’s teaching of the fruit-bearing tree as a symbol of generosity would later be expanded by Jesus, “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit; for each tree is known by its own fruit… The good person out of the good treasure of the heart produces good, and the evil person out of evil treasure produces evil; for it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:43-45) The symbol of the trees is further expanded in the Qur’an:

 

Sura 14:24 God sets forth a parable of a good word as a good tree, whose root is firm and whose branches are high,
14:25 Yielding its fruit in every season by the permission of its Lord. God sets forth parables for men that they may be mindful.
14:26 And the parable of an evil word is as an evil tree pulled up from the earth’s surface; it has no stability.
14:27 God confirms those who believe with the sure word in this world’s life and in the Hereafter; and God leaves the wrongdoers in error.
The good tree here is not only spared from punishment, it is also blessed with abundance “in every season” – a year-round blossoming and harvest will come from it.

 

“Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” (Luke 3:8) John warns that in God’s judgment, no one will be granted special leniency because of descent from Abraham. The Qur’an likewise affirms that no one will be granted favor or spared judgment for the sake of Abraham: “Do you see the one who turns away? …Has he not been informed of what is in the scriptures of Moses and Abraham who fulfilled their duty? No soul shall bear the burden of another: a man will have only what he has earned.” (Sura 53:33-34, 36-39) Rather, “those who are closest to Abraham are those who follow his ways.” (Sura 3:67) Abraham himself is not remembered for uncritical acceptance of received tradition – he turned away from his homeland and family practices. Abraham is best remembered for treating kings like nobodies, treating nobodies like kings, and a willingness to give up what he loved most in the world when God asked him to.

 

The image of God replacing the descendants of Abraham with rocks is extreme, but we can hear an echo of it in the Qur’anic warning: “You who believe, should any one of you turn back from his religion, then God will replace you with a people whom He loves and who love Him, humble toward believers, mighty against disbelievers, striving hard in God’s way and not fearing anyone’s reproach.” (Sura 5:54) But we should not consider this a rejection of the rituals and traditions of Judaism – Zechariah, being a Temple priest, is the most explicitly “Jewish” of the Qur’anic messengers, and his adherence to the Torah is rewarded with the gift of a son. In the twenty-first Surah, called “The Prophets,” a list of messengers including Abraham and David, Zechariah, John, Mary and Jesus concludes with “Surely this your community is a single community, and I am your Lord, so serve Me… Whoever does good deeds and is a believer, there is no rejection of his effort, and We keep a record of it.” (Sura 21:92, 94)

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Work (A Sermon)

WORK

Graduating from college I was genuinely excited to enter the workforce. Many liberal arts students study a little of this and a little of that, feeling around to find their interests (and here I’m talking about academic classes as well as sextra-curricular activities). But I’d arrived on campus, day one, knowing exactly what I wanted to do and then put in four straight years of near-monastic devotion, long nights at the desk, working toward my dream career: to be Snodgrass, for a living – I was going to be a celebrity. A brand, a monopoly, dispensing precious nuggets from my personal stash of Snodgrass. Many would imitate, attempting to synthesize generic equivalents (“I can’t believe it’s not Snodgrass!”), but only I would control access to the real thing.

“When I grow up I’m gonna be Snodgrass.” Of course now I realize that, for a kid without rich parents and industry connections, I might as well have said “When I grow up I’m gonna be Gandalf.” Which would actually have sounded a little less ridiculous, because at least someone did get to be Gandalf for a living.

I spent my first two years out of college working at a bookstore, which, being a writer… I might as well have been a trained nutritionist pushing a snow-cone cart. Five years and seven jobs later I was cleaning public bathrooms in New York City, and felt that I was moving up – at the end of scrubbing toilets I would feel like there was less crap in the world. Dispensing spy-thrillers and sex-memoirs had made me feel like I was spreading more crap around. And my father would find me in Yonkers, in Milwaukee, in Virginia and say “Join the middle class – it is your destiny.” But I refused to have a job that came with homework, because I was still secretly spending my nights writing. Besides, entry into the middle class would have cost me my single greatest financial asset: the ability to defer my student loan payments. Academic debt is our modern form of indentured servitude, meaning you’ll be in dentures before it’s paid off.

Surveys and statistics suggest that your average Millennial will hold fifteen to twenty-five different jobs in a fifty-year period. But I don’t believe that any kid out there is really walking around saying “When I grow up I’m gonna be a projectionist, rock-wall builder, sales clerk, canvasser, do some daycare and construction work, wash windows and public bathrooms, become an adjunct professor.” If a third-grader said that on career day, they’d medicate him – until he really did think he was Gandalf.

John Steinbeck said, “the [American] poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.” We’re all superstars – just some of us haven’t attained liftoff yet. The energetic young job-hopper is a frog prince, leaping from pad to pad until a kiss of success magically transforms him into a corporate king. Or they can move into their parents’ attic where alcohol and mood pills turn them into Sleeping Beauty – “Wake me up when the prince gets here and I become tabloid royalty.” “Um, sorry – the prince is raising six kids with Angelina Jolie, your love-life will be a series of seven financial dwarfs.” “Will Gandalf be leading any of these dwarfs to treasure?” “No, Gandalf is just a side-effect of the medication.”

There’s a scene in Disney’s Cinderella… I hate the Cinderella story – Sarah says “Daddy will you put on Cinderella?” “Aw, sorry I can’t find that disc right now – how about Pocahontas? Or Mulan?” I didn’t name my daughter after Sarah Connor so she could learn that singing songs through oppression and exploitation might just turn you into a millionaire. Anyway there’s a scene where the Fairy Godmother is getting Cinderella ready for the ball and she says “I know what we need…a pumpkin!” Cinderella is confused, but it eventually makes a…Disney sort of sense. Well right now we need a pumpkin in this sermon, and our pumpkin is a brief recap of the Agricultural Revolution and quick review of Max Weber’s thrilling page-turner, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. It might get confusing, but then by a series of mysterious incantations I plan to transform this pumpkin into a vehicle that will transport us to… Well we’ll see when we get there, but have faith in the pumpkin.

A GIST OF THE GEIST

About three million years ago there was a new kid in town with simian good looks and limitless potential. What’s got two thumbs and a sense of cause and effect? The human being. Of course we didn’t just jump into the middle class, we didn’t get jobs at all until about ten thousand years ago. You could call it a long adolescence, the human species spent about three million years wandering from site to site, trying this and that, migratory foragers saying “eh, this looks good enough. For now.” And if someone said “Son, why don’t you get a haircut? Mow the lawn? Take over the world?” He’d say, “Nyeh, sounds good pops, but I just found this bone. Gonna gnaw on it for a while. Just saw a dog doing it, he looked happy enough.”

Looking at how these primitive people acquired their food, anthropologists have designated them “Hunter/Gatherers.” This label is misleading in two significant ways: first of all it gives the impression that gaining enough calories for survival was a full-time job. But observers of primitive cultures have seen that this is not the case – acquiring daily food could be done in under an hour as long as everyone was helping. A second misconception stems from the sequence of the term “Hunter/Gatherer”: actually it was gathering that brought in the majority, 60-80% of the calories. “Bringing home the bacon” is a lot dicier in the wild than bringing home the rutabaga. It would have made far more sense to call these cultures “Gatherer/Hunters,” but most of the gathering was done by women, and most early anthropology books were written by men.

Hunting satisfies a natural male instinct to sit around together and not say anything for a long time, often followed by an opportunity to satisfy that urge to say “Did you see that? Did you see that? Did you see that?” Gathering, on the other hand, allows you to have long conversations that would scare off rabbits, but rutabaga won’t go scampering off when they hear you coming. It’s always ‘bring your baby to work day,’ also the female of the human species has a more detailed sense of color and smell (really important when you’ve got to distinguish an edible berry from poison).

When it’s time to dress the kids I’ll go stalking through a room, zoom in on something, sniff at it and my brain will say: “Shirt: clean.” And from all the way across the house I’ll hear Elizabeth saying “Don’t put her in that shirt again, it’s filthy – and she can’t wear it with those shorts anyway.” And I’ll try to reason with her: “Shirt clean,” but it’s no use, she goes into a long speech about teachers calling child protective services and I think, “Yes, our education system needs more male teachers who smoke, so they won’t notice how you dress your kids or how they smell by Wednesday.” But I don’t say that, instead I repeat the two-word mantra of every married man who wishes to have a sex-life: “You’re right.” And she is right, because for millions of years she and women like her have been honing their sense of color and smell.

After about three million years of the freewheeling gatherer-hunter lifestyle, some tribe in the Ancient Near East settled by a river and experimented with a new way of life, cultivating certain edible plants and animals, exterminating the dangerous or extraneous ones. This is called the “Agricultural Revolution,” and when learning about it we hear a lot about the tools that were developed: the hoe and plow and so forth. But the rise of Agriculture produced other inventions, far more significant: a leisure class, and a working class.

For the first time, people had to be taught that some were made to stuff themselves and others were made to suffer – literally “made to suffer,” as we can see in ancient Babylonian creation stories, where humans originate as clay drones to farm the land and feed their heavenly (and earthly) superiors. And if the little people went on strike, the gods would retaliate with a series of natural disasters, plagues, famines and wash away the leftovers with a great flood. The moral of the story, the meaning of life was “Put up, shut up, pay up.” Another invention was the full-time job, since farming was full-time work and so was bullying unambitious teenagers to do it.

Babylon eventually fell – but not because it was a failure. Babylon was toppled by its own success: too much food, producing too many people, putting a greater demand on natural resources until the land was exhausted and the culture collapsed. But that flood story survived, the Greeks used it to terrorize their peasants into “Put up, shut up, pay up.” And when Greece exhausted itself, the Romans took it, and just when it seemed the Roman Empire would fall, they switched mascots and became the Holy Roman Empire, using that same basic narrative except with Jesus Christ on a pale horse slaughtering every peasant who didn’t pay their tithes and taxes. And in case it took him a few thousand years to show up, they invented Purgatory, where deadbeats would be held hostage until their relatives scraped together enough shekels to pay the ransom. As Indulgence Salesman John Tetzel said, “When a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs.”

While inquisitors extracted confessions and ministers gave long torturous sermons about the doctrine of the Trinity, the Trinitarian economy for European peasants was “Put up, shut up, pay up.” A young German monk named Martin Luther would eventually lead the protest against this extortion racket of Jesus running a debtor’s prison, and so began the Protestant Reformation. In an effort to cut the Catholic priesthood down to size, Luther coined the expression we know as “the Calling.” This was a religious belief that each and every person (not just the priesthood) was called by God to do some job on earth, and because all “Callings” were equal in God’s eyes, one should not waste energy jockeying for position in a job market.

A generation later, John Calvin took this a step further with his doctrine of predestination. His primary aim was to prove that paying priests to perform hocus pocus rituals was not going to improve one’s chance of salvation – Calvin proposed that God had already chosen the elect for heaven. And one of the signs of this selection was that the person would be spared from scarcity and anxiety on earth – so the more wealth you possessed, the more certain you were of salvation. Calvin’s thesis was purely theological, and yet he unintentionally spread a belief that wealth was an indication of holiness. Of course worldly wealth wasn’t meant to be enjoyed, it should be saved and wisely invested so that God could multiply it into greater wealth, greater security, a surer sign of salvation.

The most extreme fanatical Calvinists were chased out of Europe (just like many of us today would happily invite our fanatical fundamentalists to go colonize Mars). So they brought their gloomy fatalism, ridiculous hats and air of superiority to New England where the grim weather suited their joyless disposition. “Methinks Plymouth Rock doth sound too festive, let us seek a name both ugly to the ear and difficult for the tongue…Massachusetts.”

Now we’re getting somewhere – Calvinist Puritans arrived on the shores of the American continent, where they could apply these Protestant doctrines to everyday community life. And while the theological underpinnings faded with time, the economic byproducts remained. From Luther and Calvin’s perspective, this would be “throwing out the baby and keeping the bathwater.” But the earthly afterthoughts of their theological speculations became the Protestant Work Ethic: a belief that every person is called to some career, the spiritually undeserving will be poor, God’s favorites will be rich (and vice versa: the rich are God’s favorites). Luther and Calvin would have been horrified to find that they’d accidentally spawned a Dharma system in which God’s grace was expressed in economic castes, complete with slaves imported to become the untouchables.

PROTESTANT WORK ETHIC

Though most of us in this room are not closet Presbyterians, many of us here have been shaped by the Protestant Work Ethic – choose your career and stick with it, every job is important, work hard and you’ll be fine, a penny saved is a penny earned. And we all know about the American caste system – upper class, lower class, this country even tried a hundred-year experiment with something called a “middle class” (write that down – it’ll be a vocabulary word on your grandchildrens’ history exam: “Middle class”). And then there are the bums. And everybody is where they are because that’s what they deserve – if everybody worked hard, everybody would succeed. And People Magazine would have 318 million faces on the cover each week. And we’d all ride in pumpkin coaches powered by enchanted mice.

And, though most of us in this room are not closet Presbyterians, many of us here are being led to fear the disintegration of traditional work values. But which traditions are collapsing?  Where did they come from, and how old are they, really? The Protestant Work Ethic is breaking down. We’re told to fear any deviation from the self-appointed “Greatest Generation,” the post World War 2 economy. Because they really knew the value of work – oh, except that only white men were allowed in the game, and their children wanted to flush all that so-called success down the toilet. I don’t see anybody here panicking about the collapse of Babylonian theocracy or Medieval feudalism (unless some of us are closet Evangelicals).

Time Magazine is shocked by this generation of job-hoppers, working in spurts at different locations – actually the strange thing is to imagine that someone would do the same task on the same assembly line for 35 years without going insane. And by ‘assembly line’ I don’t just mean industrial – I also mean food and data processing. And if a person said “I feel like a cog in a machine,” the machine would say “Puny human, you’re not part of me – my cogs are from Asia, they’re smarter than you, you’re just my personal assistant. Now clean out my inbox and get me a data-ccino. And laugh like I said something funny, I think the vacuum-cleaner’s looking.”

If we want to worry about losing “the way things have always been,” we should be thinking about the 99.7% of humanity’s time on earth when we were free-range migratory foragers. Living one day at a time, lacking the ambition to take over the world – who knows? Maybe it was a lack of ambition that kept us alive for so long. Because even those of us who might believe the “Greatest Generation” had the right idea about work…know deep in our hearts that it was not sustainable.

The other night I was walking past Hendersonville Middle School and it had turned “HMS” into a three word motto: “Honorable, Motivated, Successful.” And I wondered… What does “Successful” mean to a middle-school student today? Obviously “Success” doesn’t mean being a homeless pregnant forager, like our neolithic ancestors. And “Success” probably doesn’t mean fighting in a World War and then canning green beans for thirty-five years like it did in the “Greatest Generation.” No, if history teaches us anything, it’s that things are always changing – not only technologically but more important, ideologically – how do we measure “Success?” In terms of possessions? Salvation? Security? Happiness? I suppose I’d have to attend a middle-school graduation to find out, but since I hope never to sit through such a ridiculous thing I’ll close with what I imagine a middle-school graduation speech would sound like.

A wise man once said… Actually, I don’t think he was a man, anyway he didn’t exist… Anyway, Gandalf once said, “You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs, and a great many other things, before we reach our journey’s end, Bilbo Baggins. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you, the world is ahead.”

I gave this sermon this morning at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Black Mountain NC (there was also an amateur video, which maybe somehow I’ll figure out how to post).  Even after many, many hours of writing and rewriting, this is still a work in progress, but there were numerous requests that a transcript be posted, so here it is.

My deep thanks to the members of this Unitarian Fellowship for inviting me so many times to preach – I’d be a writer whether anybody listened or not, but knowing that there are people who want to listen to my writing makes it a LOT easier to explain to my relatives that I’m not crazy.

 

 

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