Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
I suppose for some, this video might fall flat. But for me, somehow it’s incredibly inspiring, as if in an unexpected way Matt has shown us that it really is one world.
And we’re all dancing.
I’ve started reading Moral Man and Immoral Society by Reinhold Niebuhr. it was written in 1932, but I am amazed at how incredibly relevant he is to the events of our day. Niebuhr writes*:
The economy of nature has provided that means of defense may be quickly transmuted into means of aggression. There is therefore no possibility of drawing a sharp line between the will-to-live and the will-to-power. Even in the emotions, attitudes of defense and aggression are so compounded that fear may easily lead to courage, and the necessity of consolidating the triumph won by courage may justify new fears.
[The U.S.], seeking to maintain her hegemony in [Iraq], speaks with monotonous reiteration of her need of security. She typifies the human spirit with its curious mixture of fear of extinction and love of power. Power, once attained, places the individual or the group in a position of perilous eminence so that security is possible only by the extension of power. Thus nature’s harmless and justifiable strategies for preserving life, are transmuted in the human spirit into imperial purposes and policies. So inextricably are the two intertwined, that the one may always be used to justify the other in conscious and unconscious deception.
As you may have gathered, Niebuhr was not actually speaking of the U.S. and Iraq, but of France and Europe in the period between the two world wars. But when we look at the original decision to invade Iraq, the Bush doctrine of preemptive attack, or Bush and McCain’s desire to maintain U.S. bases and troops in Iraq indefinitely, Neibuhr’s observation fits like a glove.
So what is Niebuhr’s solution to this human tendency to pursue aggression in the name of self-defense? I don’t know — I haven’t gotten that far yet. But it seems to me that awareness of the problem is the first step towards healing.
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* Moral Man and Immoral Society, Reinhold Niebuhr, p. 42
by Mark Twain
It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came – next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams – visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory –
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside – which the startled minister did – and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
“I come from the Throne – bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import – that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of – except he pause and think.
“God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
“You have heard your servant’s prayer – the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it – that part which the pastor – and also you in your hearts – fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: ‘Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
“O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle – be Thou near them! With them – in spirit – we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(After a pause.) “Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!”
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
[See here for some background on this poem.]
My church now has our second homeless person attending regularly on Sundays.
The first one was Marshall, who has been attending for three or four years. I first noticed Marshall when he interrupted Pastor Tony’s sermon shouting Bible verses at him. Since then, we make sure he is on his meds, provide him with food, and in general watch out for him and his shopping cart full of worldly belongings. (We’ve tried to get him into some housing, but Marshall won’t have it — he insists on staying on the street.) Marshall attends the early service, so I don’t see him much, at least not in church, although I occasionally see him around on the streets.
Today I sat behind another homeless guy who has been attending the late service for a while (I’m ashamed to say I don’t know his name). He must have some neurological disorder, because he seems to struggle sometimes with motor control, and occasionally lets out involuntary vocalizations, although nothing disruptive. He is clearly there for the same reason the rest of us are — worship.
This morning I was monitoring my emotional reactions to his presence. On the one hand, I was glad he was there. He needs and deserves God’s grace as much as any of us, which is to say very much and not at all. I’m glad he feels comfortable and welcomed in our church, and I did my best to make him feel at home. At the same time, deep down in the less gracious parts of my brain, I kept worrying that he would do something inappropriate, cause a scene, start ranting or something that would be, heaven forbid, embarrassing. As our history with Marshall has shown, this isn’t necessarily an unfounded fear.
But as Marshall has also taught us, having an outcast cause a scene in church is not such a bad thing. It tears down the carefully maintained facade that we’re all somehow in-control, healthy, self-actualized, serenely enlightened Christians. Such a scene is embarrassing not for the scene-maker, who is beyond embarrassment, but for us observers. It reveals that our nice clothes, good educations, well-produced liturgy and nicely appointed church doesn’t change the fact that we are all more like our homeless parishioner than not. If not for the vain desire we all have to appear calmly, rationally sane, we’d all be ranting at the cross on occasion, demanding that God explain how we are to survive in a world with death, divorce, disease and depression*. We have no grounds to pretend that everything’s cool, we’re happy and life is great, at least not all the time, but we do anyway. We could use a good scene every once in awhile just to rip away this conspiracy of self-deception.
Other than standing and sitting throughout the service on a 60-second delay behind the rest of us, our homeless parishioner did nothing untoward. He partook of communion just like the rest of us, not because we deserve it but because we need it. And none of us were embarrassed by his behavior. But having him there was a blessing, hopefully for him, but more so for me. Our Pastor and others in the church are speaking to him and seeing to his needs. But he has blessed me, just by being there, by acting as a mirror to show me my own vanity. He made me realize, again, that church isn’t about being respectable, well-groomed or placidly serene. Church is there to throw us a line as we thrash about trying to keep our heads above water in this sea of troubles, and we’re there to grab the line, not pretend that we’re doing just fine treading water.
We aren’t so different, the homeless man and me, except that he knows he needs God and I keep pretending that God needs me.
Which of us should be embarrassed?
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* Forgive the alliteration — it was initially unintended, but after realizing what I had done I didn’t have the heart to find some less-good synonyms to remove it.
Via Andrew Sullivan, some music theory, some history, and a lot of grace from Wintley Phipps:
Amen, and amen.
Friend and colleague Ed Murphy spent today in San Francisco protesting for a free Tibet. He invited me to join him, which I considered, but ended up demurring not because it’s not a worthy cause, but it just isn’t my cause. But to assuage my guilt, let me address a question my son asked me last night: why should we protest for Tibet?
It is a simple issue of self-determination for a people suffering under ethnic, cultural, economic and religious oppression. From Chris McGowan, writing at the Huffington Post:
The Tibetans are ruled by the Beijing government; they have no freedom of speech, political autonomy or self-determination. The “freedom of religious belief” line is equally ludicrous, and somehow it doesn’t harmonize with Tibetan Buddhist monks being forced to attend “re-education” classes that (surprise) denounce the Dalai Lama and praise Chinese rule.
Abrahm Lustgarten, also at the Huffington Post, puts it this way:
China has consistently pursued a policy of “taming” its far-flung western regions through economic and ethnic assimilation. It has crafted tax incentives to encourage Han business owners to move west from eastern cities and has loosened migration rules. “Go West, Young Han” is the clarion call of the times. Chinese state-run firms have staffed large construction projects such as the railway and even local road building with Han Chinese contractors and crews, who send their earnings home.
All the expansion and wealth that has streamed into Tibet has benefited Tibetans very little. Even after decades of investment, the illiteracy rate remains four times that of neighboring Sichuan province, and there are one-fourth fewer vocational schools per capita than in the rest of China.
Tibetans have been resisting this state of affairs recently, resulting in a harsh crack-down by the Chinese military. In the words of the Dalai Lama:
I am very much saddened and concerned by the use of arms to suppress the peaceful demonstrations of Tibetan people’s aspirations that have resulted in unrest in Tibet, causing many deaths, and much more casualities, detention, and injury. Such suppression and suffering are very unfortunate and tragic which will reduce any compassionate person to tears.
Read the Dalai Lama’s full statement regarding the current situation in Tibet and beyond here.
Our American principle of political, economic and religious freedom is meaningless if we look the other way when it is denied to others.
Rangzen!
Last week we had spring break, complete with lots of DVD watching. Herewith, a round-up:
Michael Clayton: An excellent movie, if a bit challenging. The movie starts about three-fourths of the way through the story with a series of scenes without context or exposition. It then backs up four days to start at the beginning, proceeding until the meaning of the already viewed snippets emerges. It forces the viewer to be comfortable with their ignorance, letting these early scenes sit off to the side completely uncomprehended for over an hour. A great exercise in living with ambiguity. Oh, and the plot is good too.
No Country for Old Men: Lousy. The plot goes something like this: a guy takes some money from a drug deal gone bad, a bad guy goes after him to recover the money, the bad guy kills everyone. The end. Oh, and then the sheriff retires. Now I get the point about “no country for old men”, i.e. the sheriff, but there’s a hell of a lot of gratuitous violence to make a smallish point.
The Kingdom: Just a fun action movie, but with an interesting bit of social commentary at the end. Most of it is kind of a CSI Saudi Arabia, with a big final battle at the end when the FBI catches (and kills) all the Saudi terrorists. So far, a typical good-guys vs. bad-guys movie. But at the end, one of the FBI agents is asked what he had said to a woman agent to comfort her in her grief over the death of her boyfriend at the hands of the terrorists. He says he told her “don’t worry, we’ll kill them all”. Cut to the survivors in the terrorists’ household after all the adult males have been killed by the FBI, and a mother asking her 10 year-old boy what the patriarch had told him as he died from his wounds. The boy replies “don’t worry, we’ll kill them all.” All of a sudden, a cold splash of moral ambiguity in the viewer’s face — we see that this cycle of revenge and hatred will never end.
Sweeney Todd: A dark, but fun and funny, musical. It’s gruesome, but in an outlandishly exaggerated way that makes it comic. Some pitch-perfect (literally) comic turns by Helena Bonham Carter, Johnny Depp, Alan Rickman and Sasha Cohen. And a great moral to the story — when we seek revenge, we end up destroying those we love. But I found myself gingerly rubbing my neck for the rest of the night.
Oh my. Via the War Room, it seems that Ben Stein has produced a movie called Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed that makes the claim that scientists arguing for intelligent design are being discriminated against. As the court ruling in the Dover, PA intelligent design trial concluded, intelligent design is not science, but here is yet another attempt to portray it as an unfairly maligned but perfectly valid scientific theory.
From the movie’s trailer, Ben Stein conflates Christianity and creationism, implying that one can’t be Christian without rejecting evolution. This is of course absurd. Taking the American religious census from the recent Pew Forum Survey on Religion, 78% of Americans are Christian. By my count1, at least 54% of these Christians belong to churches that accept and even celebrate2 the theory of evolution. So acceptance of evolution is the majority Christian position, at least based upon the teachings of various churches3.
Unfortunately, I think both sides in the intelligent design debate have an incentive to ignore we Christians that believe in evolution. The pro-ID side wants to present it as a choice between faith in God or faith in science, and to present themselves as victims of religious persecution. The New Atheists and Skeptics also like this stark choice, so they can claim that religion has been debunked by science. Both can only maintain this false choice by pretending that Christians believing in both the Bible and evolution don’t exist.
Speaking of the New Atheists, PZ Myers has a hilarious story about his attempt to attend a screening of the Expelled movie. It’s enough to make you believe that there is a God, and She is laughing Her head off!
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1. I’m counting the Catholics and mainline Protestants. I’m not sure about some of the historically black and the Orthodox churches, so I haven’t included them.
2. For an example, see here.
3. I realize that public opinion polls of Americans show a majority of Americans don’t believe in evolution. Given the religious census, I can only conclude that many Christians disagree with the leaders of their churches.
From Garrison Keillor:
Skepticism is a stimulant, not to be repressed. It is an antidote to smugness and the great glow of satisfaction one gains from being right. You know the self-righteous — I’ve been one myself — the little extra topspin they put on the truth, their ostentatious modesty, the pleasure they take in being beautifully modulated and cool and correct when others are falling apart. Jesus was rougher on those people than He was on the adulterers and prostitutes.
So I will sit in the doubter’s chair for a while and see what is to be learned back there.
Heracletus, a friend and arch-libertarian, emailed me (and the rest of his address book) with the following:
If you don’t know (and shame on you if you do not), David Mamet is a U.S. national treasure - a terrific playwright whose plays have been made into movies like “House Of Games”, “The Spanish Prisoner”, and “Things Change”.
There is some naughty language in this piece so if you don’t like cussin’, don’t read this. It is tremendous, though, and well worth your time:
http://www.villagevoice.com/news/0811,374064,374064,1.html/full
Mamet’s conversion from “brain-dead liberal” to conservative has generated glee from conservatives, I gather. I don’t get what the fuss is about. Here is my reply to Heracletus (lightly edited):
Heracletus:
[Actually, I addressed him by his real name, which as you might have guessed, is not Heracletus.]
Well, I read this, and I have to say that I don’t know what he’s talking about. He says:
As a child of the ’60s, I accepted as an article of faith that government is corrupt, that business is exploitative, and that people are generally good at heart.
I’ve never believed the first two, as a rule, but do believe the third, as a rule. But exceptions always arise. Frequently. The dividing line between good and evil cuts through each and every human heart.
Now that he’s had an epiphany, he says:
I’d observed that lust, greed, envy, sloth, and their pals are giving the world a good run for its money, but that nonetheless, people in general seem to get from day to day; and that we in the United States get from day to day under rather wonderful and privileged circumstances—that we are not and never have been the villains that some of the world and some of our citizens make us out to be, but that we are a confection of normal (greedy, lustful, duplicitous, corrupt, inspired—in short, human) individuals living under a spectacularly effective compact called the Constitution, and lucky to get it.
Well, yeah. Of course. I totally agree.
And I began to question my hatred for “the Corporations”—the hatred of which, I found, was but the flip side of my hunger for those goods and services they provide and without which we could not live.
I’ve never hated “the Corporations”. I have an MBA, I’m a management consultant, I’ve worked for and consulted to corporations my whole life.
And I began to question my distrust of the “Bad, Bad Military” of my youth, which, I saw, was then and is now made up of those men and women who actually risk their lives to protect the rest of us from a very hostile world.
I don’t distrust the military, but I do doubt the ability of the military to solve non-military problems, and for avowedly militaristic civilian leaders with no combat experience to understand the difference. But I respect and admire the military just the same.
And yet I’m still liberal, or at least left-of-center. I don’t get Mamet’s “before” beliefs, and I don’t get what the big deal is about his “after” beliefs, and why they are incompatible with being left-of-center. The whole thing left me scratching my head.
-Bob
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