Martian Sleeper Cells and A-Model Tism
Since I’m both a minister and a humanist, I’m asked—often in rather shocked terms—if I am an atheist. Many humanists use that label as a way to use a description that is positive rather than negative. After all, being labeled an a-theist implies that theism is somehow normative and that being outside that norm is an important qualifier. I don’t identify as an atheist. I’m a post-theist.
Here’s an analogy to clarify what I’m thinking: I recently bought a new Ford truck. I bought a Ford because it’s good, solid, relatively efficient transportation. I also bought it because I have fond memories of Ford trucks—both my grandfathers had Ford trucks when I was a kid. Both had started buying Fords with the Model T.
I bought a new Ford truck, not a Model T. Why? Because a Model T, even though it revolutionized the automobile industry, is no longer an efficient mode of transportation in the contemporary world.
Does that mean that I don’t “believe” in the Model T? Am I an a-Model-T-ist? Not at all. I’m a post-Model T-ist. I have no doubt that my new Ford truck is built upon knowledge gained in the manufacture of Model Ts. The Ford I drive today could not exist as it does without the Model T.
This is how I view “god.” It’s not that I don’t believe in the god concept. It’s that I don’t think the concept is good transportation in our contemporary context.
Yet, my analogy also “proves” just the opposite of my point, doesn’t it? Because we could also say that my Ford truck is merely the latest version of the Model T, isn’t it?
I’m not an a-theist. Nor am I an a-Model-T-ist.
Then there are always Subarus . . .
Philosophers Know What They Need
The story goes that a rich man asked the Greek philosopher Diogenes why it was that rich men do not follow philosophers but philosophers follow rich men. Diogenes replied, “Because philosophers know what they need; the rich do not.”
What I know for sure is that we human beings need meaning and purpose in our lives. The question is where and how to find meaning and purpose. For me, a poet, meaning is generated in the creative act of noticing the moment and using the human creation of language in an attempt to communicate that.
There are other methods.
Let’s consider: what if I decide that life has meaning and purpose because I believe Martians invaded in 1865 and formed a sleeper cell that has now come awake in the guise of a popular reality television show. By watching this TV show, I believe, I receive messages from our Martian overlords, instructions as to what I should do.
Such a belief could without question give my life meaning and purpose. Each commercial break, for example, might indicate by the number of individual commercials how many bridges the Martians wish me to blow up. I have my marching orders; I have meaning and purpose.
That such a belief system gives me meaning and purpose is not debatable. Even that this belief system gives me MORE meaning and purpose than others I might have might be the case.
What IS debatable is whether or not this particular form of meaning and purpose has value to the larger human community. This is the interface between my subjectivity and the objective world of others. Where the rubber meets the road, if you will.
Sure, if every human being on the planet agreed with my belief in a Martian sleeper cell, all of humanity would have meaning and purpose. So. Is mass delusion a positive good? Is it preferable to finding meaning and purpose in a more thoughtful way?
Is delusion “better” than relying upon more reliable methods that perhaps will fail at delivering a common meaning and purpose to large groups of people?
Here’s another thing I think is true: meaning and purpose are human constructs and therefore can be constructed only by human beings. Why ever might we want a god or gods to construct meaning and purpose for us?
It’s also pretty clear from a cursory peek at human history that meaning and purpose take different forms at different times.
Henry Ford didn’t stick with his blockbuster Model T. He didn’t arrogantly insist that what he had already found was successful enough. Instead, Ford shut down his factory and retooled to manufacture the Model A.
It is true that religion and philosophy and art do not “progress” in the same way that automotive design does. Religion and philosophy and art are in in some way timeless, with a good anecdote from some thinker or other proving to be just the ticket for grappling with a contemporary issue. The human need for meaning and purpose remains. Nevertheless, it changes as we adjust to new realities.
The Model T demonstrated the need for paved roads. The multiplicity of human cultures in our shrinking world demands that we build religions and philosophies that will be positive, be roads and bridges, not muddy ditches.
Keep the Faith
This morning I tended to my garden and that of an elder neighbor. Walking back into my home for a second cup of coffee, I realized that I felt more like a grounded, alive human being than I have in a while. In the past few weeks, the phone has rung repeatedly, bearing news of grief and sorrow or rage at yet another systemic injustice personally harming a beloved. So many people and so many places suffering all at once… And so I have remembered to return to the garden, to keep faith with the source of life, as I continue to live and minister in this beautiful, wounded world.
I hold this sustaing wisdom from Rebecca Parker (Blessing the World: What Can Save Us Now) in my heart and I share it with you today.
To keep faith with the source of life, knowing that we are not our own and that Earth made us; to keep faith with the community of resistance, never forgetting that life can be saved from that which threatens it by even small bands of people choosing to put into practice an alternative way of life; and to seek and even deeper awareness of that which springs up inwardly in us. Even when are our hearts are broken by our own failure or the failure of others, even when we have done all we can and life is still broken, there is a universal love that has never broken faith with us and never will.
You are not alone, beloved. Keep the faith. And keep in touch…
Way to Go, Supreme Court: Another #facepalm
A Primo #Facepalm Moment
To be a citizen of the United States is to experience many face palm moments. And recent Supreme Court decisions have provided some spectacular face palm moments.
Full disclosure: I take oppression of workers a bit personally. I escaped wage slavery only by luck. And my mother worked in the sort of retail store that Hobby Lobby is.
The Hobby Lobby decision this week by the US Supreme Court supplies one more example of why humanists often get irate and irrational about religion. After all, the scenario appears to be a no-brainer: an employer has a particular religious opinion. An employee has another or none. The employer sues, protesting a benefit the employee needs. Tough taco employer. right?
A no-brainer. But . . . #facepalm! . . . not in the United States. Here, individual liberty trumps the the public good a bit too often. Now, I know, the Supreme Court is that branch of government that brought you, oh, let’s see—#facepalm!—decisions such as Dred Scott and Citizens United. But still.
To the Manor Born
Most Supreme Court decisions are routine and uncontroversial. Those don’t make the news, so most citizens get a skewed picture of the court. But, reflect for a moment on the peculiarity that US citizens do not wonder about how our Supreme Court will reason their way through a politicized case to a just decision. We only have to look at the politics of most cases to know how most decisions will go. We only need to know the platforms of the Republican and Democratic parties to forecast how “law” and “reason” will turn out.
Such was the case in the Hobby Lobby case. There was never any doubt of the decision. It’s just a matter of counting the judges who have a particular political opinion.
How many babies will be born into this nation of the brave and the free and the frayed social safety net? How much hope does a child born to a parent who works at Hobby Lobby have? Will any of those kids get lucky, like me?
It’s not likely. What’s the percentage of people who make it into the One Percent? #facepalm! (Or like lucky, lucky me, the Five Percent?) And how many of those weren’t born into the One Percent? Or Five Percent?
Cue (and Queue) the Crazies
Does this decision open the door for all kinds of religious objections to all sorts of things? Yes. For Christians, anyway. The unspoken law behind the decision is that Christianity is the only real and true religion, and the merits of others to be decided by whatever local powers there might be, in whatever courts may be nearby. (Read “Christian” jury.)
Humorist Will Rogers once said, “America has the best politicians money can buy.” Also, America has the best religion money can buy—to every citizen a religion custom- tailored to support our prejudices. Here’s the thing: whatever your religious beliefs, or lack thereof, if the top tenant of your religion is not fostering the wellbeing of your fellow human beings, it is bad religion.
As a humanist, I have no excuses for damaging the well being of another. The central focus of my ethics must be promoting the flourishing of my fellow humans, animals, and the world.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Facepalm#mediaviewer/File:Paris_Tuileries_Garden_Facepalm_statue.jpg
As we enjoy the fireworks in the United States, we do well to meditate a bit on the difference between rights and responsibilities. Yes, we are a nation of laws. Often those rights and those laws are (facepalm!) irresponsible.
In Prayerful Solidarity with Dr. Ersula Ore
This morning I am sitting in prayer after watching a video of Dr. Ersula Ore, a Professor at Arizona State University, get thrown to the ground by a violent cop after he demands that she produce identification and she does not immediately do so. She was jaywalking.
Jaywalking Arrest for Professor in AZ
You can draw your own conclusions. Perhaps, like me, you will be struck by how much self-respect and calmness she displays, how she initially strives to remain a human being in relationship to another human being with this officer.
Perhaps, like a (white male) facebook friend, you will see it differently. You will think that she should have done exactly what the cop told her to do and handed over her ID to him without talking to him at all. Certainly that is what African Americans and other people of color are taught to do no matter how inappropriately cops behave.
As a white woman, I have had similar give and take with police officers to the kind that Dr. Ore begins with. Once, I said the exact words she said to the officer, in almost the exact same tone of voice. “Are you kidding me?” At worst, I’ve gotten ticketed in a manner that I consider unfair. But I have never felt at risk of violent assault from a police officer in such an interaction.
But this cop makes a different choice. Rather than speak back to Dr. Ore in a manner similar to the one with which she speaks to him, and take care of whatever he needs to take care of regarding jaywalking, he escalates the situation until, she is handcuffed and thrown to the ground. We don’t see her dress in the video, but according to witnesses, it is pulled up and ‘her anatomy is exposed’ on the street. Eventually, she kicks an officer who is reaching over to touch her skirt. She is now charged with assaulting an officer, a felony.
It’s not an insignificant point that this took place in Maricopa County, where Sherriff Joe Arpaio has been training his officers to humiliate and demean people of color for years. His legacy of abuse of people of color extends all the way to multiple deaths in his “Tent City,” which he has himself described as a “Concentration Camp.”
For Dr. Ore, there is now an investigation taking place about whether or not what happened to her was caused by “racial motivation.” One can only wonder what that means and how such an investigation would take place. What if thousands of white people testified that no cop has ever treated us this way, nor demanded ID when we are walking in the street to avoid road construction—could that help this be seen as racially motivated? What if thousands of people of color testified about how frightening it is to live in Maricopa County? Could the model that Sherriff Joe Arpaio sets for his officers create racial motivation? One shudders to think about the narrow definition of “racial motivation” that will be employed by officials.
Dr. Ore, you are in my prayers today. You and the thousands of other people of color who are forced to prove that you have a right to walk home, and upon whom the burden of proof always rests. Please know that you are not alone—that tens of thousands of white people, as well as the people of color who share your experience of being told you don’t matter—are with you and will be with you as you ask for what everyone wants: Respect for your worth and dignity.
Roadmaps for the Soul (or: Hunting, Gathering, Singing)
In “Tombstone Blues,” a song released in 1965, Bob Dylan sang, “The National Bank at a profit sells roadmaps for the soul / To the old folks home and the college.” In the context of the song, Bob clearly doesn’t think this is a good thing. Commodifying the meaning of life?
Yes, well . . .
Suppose for a moment that all the religious and philosophical speculation through time, and all the art and architecture to boot, have been about the same thing as the hunting and the fishing, the gathering and farming. Suppose that all human actions—from the sacred to the profane—have been and are still . . . ways to survive. Ways for us to adapt to our environment and, perhaps, thrive.
Sounds Reasonable, Doesn’t It?
Does such a supposition denigrate—or cheapen—all the blood and tears shed in service to the gods? Or in service to art? I don’t think so.
Is a symphony less because it’s an adaptive trait rather than a window onto absolute truth? What if the search for truth and meaning is itself an adaptive trait—a way of surviving.
Put this way, it’s hard not to say, “well, duh!” Yet we often don’t go quite far enough. Yes, human activities of all sorts are attempts at survival. But if our search for truth and meaning in all its manifestations, from fine art to fine dining to religion, is an adaptive trait, doesn’t it follow that the search for truth and meaning is an entirely human construct? It’s filling a need but has no larger purpose.
It’s Easy If You Try
Like most people, I searched for a “really true truth” for a long time. Hey, I’m a Baby Boomer, it’s what we did. It was a brilliant marketing ploy. Forget the gurus; the tax dollars you lose giving churches tax-exempt status is seventy-one billion dollars a year.
That’s a lot of moolah for Moloch. (And full disclosure: as a minister, I ride that particular gravy train.)
The search for truth and meaning puts a lot of food on the table and a lot of money into retirement accounts for various sorts of people. No, this isn’t about tax exemptions. It’s about the price we are willing to pay purveyors of truth and meaning. After all, yoga alone is a twenty-seven billion dollar a year industry.
The Fine Print
We pay a lot for truth and meaning, in bookstores, museums, churches, and storefront meditation centers. To repeat, I think that’s great. It’s an adaptive trait. Yet, it’s good remember that there is no one truth to find.
This particular survival trait only becomes problematic when we fall into the trap of thinking there’s a truth out there to find. It’s problematic when we begin paying a high price for one particular roadmap for the soul, or when those around us begin paying too high a price.
Until someone gets hurt.
Yes, it’s the search itself that is the answer. Not the answers. Or the roadmaps.
Making Sense of Life (or: Three Decorating Ideas for the Mind)
Wallace Stevens once said, “How full of trifles everything is! It is only one’s thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.” At first glance, this perhaps sounds like a Disneyesque reflection on the uses of a hearty imaginal life. Or—since Stevens was a poet—a reflection on the power of metaphor to set solid things flying.
At second glance—since Stevens was both a poet and an atheist—perhaps it is a reflection on what he saw as the most fruitful power in the universe—the human mind’s power to construct meaning as we go along in an otherwise material and un-human universe.
Most likely, Stevens meant all these things and more. After all, his poems sport beautiful and improbable and impermanent “furniture” such as peacocks, round jars in Tennessee, and Emperors of Ice-Cream. Stevens also wrote of “the palm at the end of the mind.” Yes, the palm is a tropical tree. It is also the human hand, our hands. We ourselves are the end of meaning . . . because we are the only creatures in the world that reach for something called meaning, at least something called “human meaning.”
Moment to moment we are faced with a question: How do I make sense of my life? “It is only one’s thoughts that fill a room,” Stevens wrote, “with something more than furniture.” And it is only one’s thoughts that fill a universe full of furniture with meaning.
Religions (and the lack thereof) reflect the values of the cultures in which they develop. Religions (and their lack) serve as both a reflection of the aspirations of particular groups and also as guides for individuals within a group when we may be in doubt concerning what our culture and our religious belief or non-belief requires of us. They also fill the room with more than furniture. They help us make sense of our lives.
Pragmatist philosophers claim that labeling one “truth” as “false” and another as “true” doesn’t reveal much. It is more useful to see all views—religious and otherwise—as devices to get results. After all, if beliefs did not get results, they would not survive the test of time. The question—at least for those who are free enough of theocracy to have a choice—is which of the many ways of seeing produce the most desirable results,which make the most sense our of life.
Is it somehow useful for making sense of life, for instance, to believe that Fridays which fall on the 13th of the month have special properties?
Over time human beings have posited two very different views of how the world works. One view is that the order we see is the order that is: sure, we will keep discovering more and more about that order, but it’s all out there to observe, albeit some of it observable only with a large hadron collider.
The opposite view (the opposite “truth”) is that there is a higher order not discoverable by observation. This is usually accompanied by speculation concerning a god or gods, though it doesn’t have to. (For example, the Renaissance-era belief in alchemy did not require gods in order to function, even though that belief system existed in parallel to Christianity. )
These polar opposites are not always opposite in practice. Many otherwise “materialist” people leave room for “powers unseen,” as the Book of Common Prayer would have it. Be that as it may, there is a great gulf fixed between those who trust observation to reveal “truth” and those who depend up the revelation of sacred texts and seers of various sorts, be they prophets or gurus.
Wallace Stevens was on the side of observation. He found the most reliable way to get results was to posit a lack of meaning (at least human meaning) beyond the human mind.
Is there a difference between the words of Moses and the words of Wallace Stevens? Stevens thought not. Sure, some poets and some poems are better at filling rooms with more than furniture, and large hadron colliders can rewrite all we know about the room and the furniture. Yet, in essence, it’s all about the human imagination. It’s up to us to animate the room with sense and meaning.
We ourselves are the end of (human) meaning . . . because we are the only creatures in the world that reach for something called (human) meaning. Moment to moment we are faced with a question: How do I make sense of my life? For some of us “truth” is our way of animating the furniture, and we assume our sense is not the sense of another. It is an entertaining place to live.
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Palm_tree_symbol.svg
As Stevens put it,
A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.
The Proof’s in the Pudding (or What’s Churchy about Church?)
Imagine
I’m sometimes asked how humanists can have “church” without invoking god. Here’s how I think about it:
Imagine this scenario: When Imhotep in ancient Egypt invoked the great god Ra, he was invoking the human consciousness, not Ra Almighty.
Imagine this: When Zadok, son of Ahitub, entered the holy of holies of Solomon’s brand new temple, perhaps he was talking to the greatest power on this earth—the human imagination.
Imagine this: When the evangelist Billy Graham made his vast alter calls in stadiums across North America, the Christ that thousands flocked to . . . was the human psyche. Whatever you think about powers beyond, imagine this for just a moment.
Entertain the thought for just a moment that every shaman, priest, and prophet who has ever lived . . . has created worship without god because . . . there never has been six or three or one to begin with.
Shared Subjective Reality
But wait! Isn’t there more to the question? Because, even granted the accuracy of my imaginings, didn’t Imhotep and Zadok and Billy Graham each have the advantage of speaking to people who shared a subjective reality?
Didn’t the Egyptians of Imhotep’s time have a mental image of Ra and the Hebrews of Zakok’s time have a notion of Yahweh and the Christians of Billy Graham’s time a common picture of Christ the Lord?
Good question. Did they really? Are people really like that? Or did the priests and preachers have, rather, the apparatus of worship embedded in a particular place and time—Ra’s temple, Yahweh’s temple, or the vast football stadiums of Jesus with great PA systems?
Could it be that what they all had is an apparatus for worship that individual psyches journeyed to . . . . Can we seriously argue that each ancient Egyptian had an identical psychological understanding of Ra? Not likely. But they did have a temple, didn’t they? Doesn’t the very fact of the rabbinic tradition argue that Hebrew worshipers exited Zadok’s services with very different views of ultimate reality? Still, they had that temple, didn’t they?
Weren’t there as many Christs as there were Christians in Billy Graham’s vast alter calls? Yet they came to that structure of power and fame called a stadium or an auditorium, didn’t they? They came to hear Billy.
All Churchy
What’s so churchy about church? The apparatuses of worship change with time, as do the words and the concepts. It is the human mind and human needs for purpose and meaning that remain that same and come to the temple, the stadium, or the storefront church. These are what remain the same. For humanists, that’s as holy as it gets. And that’s fine: the proof is in the pudding. Ra’s pudding doesn’t do much for many of us. But the pudding of gathering together into community is quite tasty.
Just imagine that the point of worship (humanists prefer “assembly”) is calling individuals into community. Imagine that a community created in this way agrees to agree—despite individual understandings—on particular values that sometimes—in the best-case scenario—lead to objective common actions that may be considered moral and ethical (actions better because they spring from a common purpose).
That’s what “worship”—uh, assembling—will or won’t do. Gathering to invoke Ra or any of the deities or no deity at all leads to the same thing. It’s the human mind imbued with meaning and purpose and communal action that matter.
Imagine . . .
Disappear or Die: Southern Black Trans-Experience
Today we bless Tela La’Raine Love as she prepares for her gender reassignment surgery. Every day, Tela blesses this world with her courage, her determination, and her clear vision of a world where transwomen of color live safe, fulfilling, and long lives. Only in her 30’s, Tela serves as an elder, a mother, and a mentor to many young transwomen of color, struggling to survive in a culture that tells them to disappear or die.
Although we hope that “it gets better,” 2012 saw the 4th highest murder rate of LGBTQ and HIV-affected people (LGBTQH) in recorded history, according to the Hate Violence Report released annually by the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs (NCAVP-http://www.avp.org/about-avp/coalitions-a-collaborations/82-national-coalition-of-anti-violence-programs ).
People of color, transgender people, and gender non-conforming people continue to experience disproportionately higher rates of homicide. Black and African-American people “were particularly overrepresented in the homicide rates: over half of reported hate murders had Black or African-American victims, even though Black and African American people made up only 15% of total survivors and victims of hate crimes overall.” In 2012, LGBTQH people of color represented 53% of total reported survivors and victims of all hate crimes, but 73.1% of homicide victims. Living at the intersections of racial, gender, economic, and sexual oppression, trans-women of color are told to disappear or die.
In the midst of a dominant cultural narrative of oppression and repression, Tela Love is living into her journey towards wholeness with a spirit fully grounded in her inherent worth and dignity. She is the co-founder of New Legacy Ministries (http://www.newlegacystartstoday.com/), a grassroots organization striving to raise the voices of marginalized communities, especially transgender women of color, and create a spiritually welcoming and sustaining community.
Disappear or Die: A Southern Black Trans-Experience, will be a documentary of her experience as a openly HIV Positive trans-women of color in the south undergoing gender reassignment surgery June 18,2014. In sharing this personal window into her life, she understands that she is taking a risk. Traditionally trans-women have disappeared into the constructs of a patriarchal society after their surgery, rather than remain targets for hate and fear.
Tela realizes that she is allowing herself to be a target for greater judgment and persecution than that of which she already endures. However, inspired by the wisdom of Martin Luther King Jr.’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail that “silence is betrayal,” she has determined that she can be silent no more. She cannot be silent when waking from her nightmares of another young transgender woman being murdered or dying because she’s too ashamed to follow through with her HIV treatment after being diagnosed out of fear of being further alienated. Tela cannot be silent while there are little or no job opportunities for trans-women, while there are little or no housing opportunities (unless HIV infected), while black trans-women walk the streets in order to survive.
And neither, beloveds, can we. Our silence, too, is betrayal. Let us speak into the space of fear and hatred, ignorance and oppression. Let us bless Tela and every one of her sisters with the welcoming arms of beloved community. (https://www.facebook.com/Blacktranswomenarepowerful)
Please support the creation, production, and distribution of the documentary Disappear or Die: A Southern Black Trans-Experience. Together, let’s re-write the narrative of oppression into thriving, joyful beloved community.
Donations to support the creation of this documentary can be made via PayPal or sent to the Center for Ethical Living and Social Justice Renewal marked “Designated Donation: New Legacy Ministries” 2903 Jefferson Ave, 2nd FL, New Orleans, LA 70115.)
Spiritual But Not . . . Keep Talking
Literary critic Terry Eagleton said, “The din of conversation is as much meaning as we shall ever have.” I like that. On first glance, it appears to be bleak—human conversation is all the meaning there is?
But imagine what human conversation has given us.
Imagine the din of conversation under the porches and under the trees in Athens during the time of Socrates.
Imagine the din of conversation in Baghdad in the late 700s when an institution called the House of Wisdom opened it’s doors—an attempt to gather all the wisdom in the world.
Think of the din of conversation in Florence that led to the Renaissance. The din of conversation in Shakespeare’s London. The din of conversation in cafes that created the Vienna Circle at the beginning of the Twentieth Century.
The din of conversation in the Paris of the 1920s. Or Greenwich Village. Or North Beach in San Francisco in the 1950s that gave rise to the Beat Generation.
Think of the din of conversation in Liverpool, England that led to the Beatles. Or the din of conversation in a little recording studio called Sub Pop that led to the Seattle Sound, better known as Grunge.
Too often we think of lonely geniuses but genius is seldom lonely. Shakespeare and his Globe theatre were not the only show in town. Shakespeare’s London had twenty-seven public theatre venues. More than fifty British bands made up the so-called British Invasion. The Beatles weren’t alone.
Looked at from this perspective, from the view of what gets created in the crucible of human sharing, Eagleton’s phrase does not sound quite so bleak: “The din of conversation is as much meaning as we shall ever have.” Why ever would we want more than human conversation?
Would we really want a voice from on high coming to proclaim the once and final truth? Isn’t the mystery more beautiful, the stabs in the dark of the millions of human beings who have taken part in this great din of conversation, this lovely human project of creating meaning?
I believe in community. A place where people talk with each other. In coffee houses. In bars. In streets and market squares—public spaces and the din of conversation—this is the meaning of meaning. And it is why totalitarian regimes fear the public square and religions burn books.
The term “conversation” originally meant “intimacy with others.” It also meant “sexual intercourse.” Only later did the term take on its present meaning of talking.
Let’s just say there’s something intimate about conversation.
What if the increasing din of human conversation, and perhaps its increasing complexity, is the hope of humankind? Would it be so bad if the talking that led to the Renaissance and a band called Nirvana is all the heaven we humans shall ever know?
Let’s take one conversation as an example. Two human beings, Michael Murphy (not the pop singer) and Frederic Spiegelberg, started a conversation. They agreed that the human spiritual impulse need not necessarily follow any one religious tradition. They thought that people could be “spiritual but not religious.” That phrase is a cliche now, a whipping boy for various dogmas. But in its day the phrase was a radical new thought. Spiegelberg published a book titled The Religion of No Religion.
The two men founded an institution called the Esalen Institute. Now, whatever you may think of what the Esalen Institute became, look at how pervasive a conversation between two people back in the 1950s has become. “Spiritual but not religious” as a concept is destroying traditional religions in the United States. And Murphy and Spiegelberg would not be upset by that. The Esalen motto is “No one captures the flag.” No religion has all the truth. And science doesn’t either.
Aren’t gratitude and grace and compassion and love and astonishment part of human nature? Part of our evolution? How could any one religion steal the flag of wonder or awe? As a matter of fact, how do any of these things have anything at all to do with religion?
Isn’t gratitude and grace and compassion and love and astonishment just as available in art, in music, in poetry? Available to each of us somewhere in the din of conversation?
Isn’t science a conversation too?
Today, we are creating a new conversation. One that is perhaps even beyond (and free from) “spiritual but not religious.” Yes, the din of your conversation is as much meaning as we shall ever have—but it is enough.
Eduardo Matania Beim Die geschlossene Bank 1870s.jpg
Keep talking. Increase the din. Converse. Remake the human reality.
What to Wear
OK, time for the teensiest bit of a rant, here. It starts with the fact that a girl named Jessica had her photo kept out of her high school yearbook because she was wearing a tuxedo. (Class pictures are required to be in either a tuxedo or a drape.) Or maybe it starts with the fact that a friend’s granddaughter was sanctioned at school because she was wearing a crop top and skirt that came half-way up her thighs.
And you know what I think? What the hell business of yours it is what someone else wears? Yeah, I get it that you’re going to browbeat your kid into wearing something proper for a wedding or a funeral, and I know in some places it’s a sin to wear white shoes past Labor Day, but really, and in general, what business is it of anyone’s what someone else chooses to put on their body?
I don’t know if Jessica, by her choice of clothing for the class photo, was trying to communicate that she identifies as trans, or that she’s lesbian, or bi, or countercultural, or just that she thought she would look cute in a tuxedo. (She does.) And you know what? Not only is it not any of my business, it isn’t her school’s business either. She is entitled to share or not share any of those identities, and no one is entitled to decide, based on what she’s wearing for a photo, which, if any, she might embrace.
I’m pretty sure that my friend’s daughter was just wearing what she thought was a cute, fun outfit on a warm day. (I saw the picture–it was.) And maybe some boys paid more attention to her than they would have if she were more covered up. And if so, maybe she enjoyed that attention, and maybe she didn’t. But if she liked the attention then she should be entirely free to flirt back, without having to worry that flirting would turn into assault. And if she didn’t like the attention she should be able to rebuff any advances without hard feelings or fear of repercussions.
Because she, like Jessica and like anyone else, should be able to wear what she wants because she’s the one wearing clothes on her very own body and she deserves to have say over what happens with that body.
Yes, I do think there are some limits on what teenagers should be allowed to wear to school. No clothes bearing racist, sexist, homophobic or other remarks that are designed to attack people as they walk by. Because no one deserves to be attacked.
And you know what? That rotund lady in the tight shirt and shorts doesn’t deserve to be attacked by disapproving glances or muttered comments either. Because it’s her body and her clothes, and who are you to say what she gets to wear? Maybe she feels cute and sexy and maybe it’s what she had clean at the moment, and what business is it of yours?
Look, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t set limits on teens, or that there is never a time when it might be reasonable to intervene in the behavior of a stranger on the street. If you see someone driving badly in a parking lot or kicking a dog, by all means, step in and I’ll applaud. But you know what? No one was ever run over by another person’s clothing. If you don’t like what someone else’s clothing says about you (like “I’m with stupid–>”) speak up. But if you don’t like what you imagine their clothing says about them, that is your problem and you should just get over it.
End of rant.
