Not at liberty

Someone somewhere is afraid. That fear leads them to believe that because some things are changing in America, that what they have been comfortable with is under attack.
Someone else has taken hold of that fear and tried to magnify it one hundred fold. Because where one person is scared that their ideology is under attack, there are others who feel the same. And even if they don't, they will, because it's nice to feel righteous indignation in the face of being wrong.

If I believe the the Yankees are the best ball team hands down, and someone shows me that Kansas City is 7-0 compared to the Yankees 3-5, I might get a little shaken up. I have to face the fact that I'm wrong. That's scary.

Now, I have the freedom to continue believing that the Yanks are the best team, even in face of evidence to the contrary, but this cognitive dissonance in no way exemplifies a love of truth.
It just shows denial, and fear. And those two things love the idea of being persecuted by the 'others' who see the truth for what it is. Those Royals fans are ruining baseball for Yankees fans!

No one is persecuting Christian's right to believe what they want. Just because gay marriage is taking hold across the nation, and people are becoming more aware of the outdated patriarchal ways that Christianity lends itself to -- in fact depends on -- and are tired of it, doesn't mean that Christians can no longer live the same way they always have.

What it means, however is that things are changing and Christians cannot deal with it.

That fills them with fear. They want to deny the reality. As above, fear and denial love the idea that because things are changing it means that Christians are under attack.

So, while a Christian can choose to believe that homosexuality is a sin, and that the patriarchal ways of some denominations are good and sound, even in the face of huge change, it doesn't mean that their way of life is under attack. It just means that the realization of having been duped is much harder to deal with than continuing to do things the same old way.

In this country we have the freedom to do many things, but we are not at liberty to persecute members of any faith, legally.

We are not at liberty to call you out on those issues where you are hanging on to bad dogma.

But we are at liberty to grow, change and make this world safe and habitable by all walks of life. If your faith prevents you, fine. You are not at liberty to shriek "PERSECUTION" just because you don't like what you see.

A moment of life in death.

The deeps of winter, where I live, are not so deep. Sure, it gets cold, but not so much that you have to worry about permafrost. Even still, the winter is the time that I prune trees that I've planted on our property.
Two of the trees -- a Bradford Pear and a Cleveland Pear -- have grown exponentially over the last few years, and so I've had to work extra hard to keep them at a manageable size.
I kept the 'wands' I cut with the hopes of maybe making something from them, a basket or something.
One of them, a longer one, I cut a small point on and stuck it in the ground by a pile of wood near our fire circle.
A few weeks later, I was surprised to see that there were leaves blooming on tiny branches. I showed my wife who suggested that "life wants to keep living."
I agreed and planted the wand into the good deep wet earth in our yard.
I was speaking to a friend who knows plants, and he said that, if I want the wand to develop roots, I'd need to prune the new leaves. My hope was that if I ignored the leaves, the wand would still develop roots. Nature might find a way.
As I walked out this morning to look at the thing, I felt the same affection for it that I do the others I've planted. I would be hard for me to pluck the leaves. But rationality kicked in and I knew if I wanted it to live, it was a sacrifice I'd need to make. There wouldn't be any magic involved.

Life is often like this. We want something, and we know that to get it, we have to make sacrifices. Despite this, we often delude ourselves into thinking that something or someone unseen will intervene. My hope with the tree, that it would survive either way, was not a bad hope, but it was uninformed.
I know what I'd like, and I know what will be. The choice I have to make is whether I will allow my wants to cloud the reason. Or if I will trust to the  reality of the situation and make a rational decision.

We can hope and wait on an eternal unseen presence to intervene, or we can act on what we know.
It won't always be life or death. But, realizing that we have within ourselves the power to act, even in the face of what we know is inevitable may just be for us a moment of life in death.

Divine, or Not?

There are a great many people who claim the The Bible is the Word of God. They claim that the writers thereof were divinely inspired and that even those books which were written after the death of Christ must, by this claim, be included as God's unchanging Word.
They claim that this divine inspiration makes the Bible divine, as a whole text. But does it truly make all the writers divine as well? Who decided they were inspired, and how do we define divine inspiration?

According to Dictionary.com, divine inspiration is: an act or process that is purportedly inspired by a deity; 

inspiration endowed by God upon 

spiritually gifted persons

Now, that in itself is pretty easy to understand. A person has a spiritual sensitivity and so is able to more plainly evoke what he or she believes is the nature, will or desire of God. But can we spread this same sensitivity to all of the authors of the Bible? How do we measure the 'sensitivity' of authors we know so little about? We could claim that their writings are so in common that we can assume the power of inspiration runs throughout. But the commonality of the Gospels is not so easy for us to show.

From the historical perspective, even if we simply want to hold the light of historicity to the Gospels alone, we begin to see some tears in the fabric of divinity.
Mark, the youngest of the Gospels in terms of time passed between the death of Jesus around year 30 and it's origin tells the story of a Jesus who is not seen after the resurrection, has no mention of virgin birth and makes no claims of the divinity of Jesus. Written somewhere between 60 and 70, it also has the empty tomb tale.

Paul's writings begin somewhere around 50. Which means that long before the tale of Jesus was written down by the Gospel authors, Paul had converted and had begun his ministry and letters.
Eight of the books of Paul are undeniably his work. However thirteen books that are attributed to Paul or Timothy, are not verified works. They are called, by theologians, pseudepigraphic, or 'under a false name'. If we cannot verify these authors, how can we know that they were inspired? Also, Paul never claims that Jesus was born of a virgin. And unlike Mark, there is no empty tomb. He claims Jesus was raised from the dead and appeared to him on the road to Damascus.

Matthew, having origins closer to year 80, records virgin birth and being born in Bethlehem.

Between Luke and the Acts, we can see more of the Passion, those things we are used to seeing. The last supper, appearing multiple times in the Upper Room, the ascension and the murder of his followers. Luke and Acts have origins near year 85. John, happening in year 90 talks more about the incarnation of God-as-Man, the divinity of Jesus and so on.
In every single one of these cases, from Paul, through the lowly Mark and through, we see so many different versions of Jesus, that we can tell that his many biographers were not so sure of his story as they perhaps claimed.
If there are this many differences among men who were this close to these times, how can we say that there is a truth that runs through all of them which invites us to accept infallibility of the text.

Even if we ignore the translations of the original writings, various 'gnostic' texts ascribed to Mary Magdalene and Jesus himself, we have enough of a muddled history to make even the most sane historian mad.Leaving out Paul's letters, how can you adhere to the divinity argument, if even the Gospels do not agree? Perhaps one is more accurate, historically, than others, but even in the face of all that, we cannot tell for sure, which of the four was the most accurate.
If we cannot even apply empirical historical validity to these events, and the writers don't agree or match up, how do we logically make the claim of divinity of the texts?
The next question is: do dare apply divinity to those texts which were obviously written under an assumed name? Were they written under duress? Were they published under a different name to avoid persecution? How does that hold up against the idea that martyrdom is a good thing?
Perhaps, even if Paul's epistles were inspiring works, we might disagree that they were divinely inspired. He says very different things to the different 'churches'. Pastors and theologians will chalk this up to different cultures of his audiences.
But the real question is, outside of Jesus himself (we will tackle his divinity later) can anyone in or contributing to the unfolding story of Jesus' life and ministry be considered divine?
If we apply this same incredulity of divinity to The Bible as we do to the Quran or the Kalevala or the Bhagavad Gita, we may be surprised at how poorly it holds up to historical scrutiny, not to mention questions of divine inspiration.

Even more poignant, can we call the writings of theologians and other clerics who wrote about Jesus divine too? What if they disagree with Paul or the Gospels? Clearly historical integrity among the Gospels themselves is not considered important, or, at least is glossed over. At what point do we draw the line? Only those books that were accepted at the Council of Nicea?
But it is not enough to question this book's origins in history. We must ask, do the claims made in the book to anything to add or subtract to the morality within that believers also call divine and absolute?
At what point do we willingly suspend disbelief in order to believe that which doesn't hold up against very much literary and historical scrutiny?

Note: Special thanks to Matt Barsotti at his blog Jericho Brisance and the lovely infographic there which guided my navigation of the historical origins. I take no credit for the infographic, but you may find it helpful. Find it here

Death? No. Possible Redemption.

The final verdict has been submitted and the jury found Dzhokhar Tsarnaev guilty of all 30 counts of murder in the Boston Marathon bombing. The second part of his trial will now be about whether or not he is sentenced to death.
According to a New York Times brief, the defense will try to save him by building the argument that he fell under the power of his brother, Tamerlan.
This is one of those interesting situations where my knee-jerk reaction is somewhat different from a more thoughtful and slow approach to the question of whether we should kill Dzhokhar for the horrible crimes he committed.
My knee-jerk reaction was instantly 'No.' We should not kill him, because that is exactly what he wants. His mentality about death is that it is honorable to die for what he believes. He believes that killing people, Americans, would bring him glory in the afterlife. My knee-jerk reaction was to keep him alive so that the glory he so wished for would be kept from him. That should be torturous for him metaphysically.
But, after I thought more about it, I realized that I was wrong about this approach. I do not mean to say that I think that Dzhokhar Tsarnaev should be sentenced to death. I abhor the death penalty. I mean that it was wrong of me to think of this from the perspective of being kept from his own joy of his afterlife.
The idea that a man could do what he did, notwithstanding, Tsarnaev is a human being. Even though we would not deign to admit it, for good reasons, he has dignity. He is alive. He is capable of thought. He can be rehabilitated -- even reconciled -- from his way of thinking.
I agree that he needs to go to prison. I agree that his sort of mental sickness is awful. But I don't agree with is that he can never be a person who can look back and say that what he did was wrong.
Religion in this situation is at the root of this young man's evil act. He did this as an act of evangelism. He wanted to gain notoriety by being a terrorist and he wanted to die to gain glory in the afterlife. That is poisoned thinking, for sure.
How often do we not get poisoned into thinking something that, in a clearer light, we would reject out of hand?
Dzhokhar is a human with some really bad problems. In time, those problems may heal. In time he may be brought to see the error of his ways. In time, he may be able to help end the situation as it is in this world, where we are not fully free until we stop believing poisoned philosophies and dogmas.
I for one wish to see no more loss of life from this terrible tragedy. I do not foresee it doing much good to take his life from him, the way he took the lives and liberties of so many others.
He is a sick person, but that sickness comes from a lifetime of indoctrination. Perhaps if Dzhokhar had been raised in a place where he was free to find his own Truth, he would have been a productive member of society.
I believe that killing him is wrong, not so that he will experience the metaphysical torture of being kept from what he believes he will receive in the afterlife, but because there is hope that he will be able to find that the afterlife he believes in is nothing compared to the redemption that may be found if he gets the help he needs.
Incarcerate him. But do not kill him.

The Discussion

A good friend of mine is a theologian. He's smart. Sharp as a razor, and very evangelical.
Recently I posted a comment about my heroes and I included Christopher Hitchens. Hitch remains one of the few voices of reason from the atheist side of the chamber. For me, it was one of many acquired tastes to get to know Hitch. I disagreed with literally everything he said.
He was offensive, boorish and English.
Not that there's anything wrong with being English, but there is an ingrown sense of fear of their use of the language.
I included on the list, Orwell, Hitch, Jesus.
My friend commented and said he did not think Hitch should be on the list.
My friend is too smart not to observe that I have deconverted. But it provided an opportunity to show the place of Judas in the Passion.
We are taught that he was bad. The worst. Yet, even with that, had not Judas sold Jesus to the Sanhedrin, would we have had a Passion?
I agree with nearly everything Hitch says, now. He's gone, but not forgotten.
Wherever he's gone, if anywhere, he helped one person divest all the bad philosophy and contradiction and hypocrisy in Christianity. Things I've found I cannot tolerate any longer.
If that means I'm a sinner, so be it. But if that means I am now free to move ahead in my search for Truth, well, Amen.
Here's to Hitch, to those who challenge the Establishment and to those who are learning to fear no longer.

A note on Coming Back

Resurrection is a funny thing. Short of being something that can only happen within a very short time of heart stoppage, we tend to think of resurrection as being strictly metaphorical.
Yesterday, billions of people all over the world celebrated the resurrection of Jesus, a mythology which puts it's weight completely on the coming back.
There are lots of mythologies out there that have magical or miraculous parts.
But this one is designed to get us to not worry about right now, and instead place our hopes on the after life, where we shall, one day, be resurrected like Jesus.
I have no taste for the torture and death of who I still believe was a great man with a hugely important message.
I have even less taste for celebrating an internal mindset that values something after death as more important than the right now.
Experts in theology often have to skirt the issue of the miraculous. They have to trump it up as the power of God or claim that we just don't know, but we'd better believe anyway, just to be sure.
In both cases, there is just one problem: it accomplishes nothing.
It's fine to celebrate the man, a thing we should do every day. But to give ourselves over to believing in nonsense which poisons our ability to live and be awake in the here-and-now, is really a frightening prospect.
Follow the teachings of the man, but eschew the fantastical things in the stories.
Focus more on how to emulate his story to fit today. Focus less on the afterlife.
Today is the day. That's the real miracle.

Fear of Death

We all have a tendency to fear the end of our own lives. Things may be rough, while we're alive, but since we don't know about what happens after we die, if anything, we're terrified by it.

This fear, no matter how irrational is something that all living creatures feel. I believe that it is, and I mean no pun here, a survival instinct. Since our desire to survive is the most powerful drive we have, it seems reasonable that we've built up death to be something that we fear and detest and dread.

This is where religion steps in.

Religions all across the spectrum deal with death in very specific ways, but most have a way to avoid death, make it less frightening or fulfill some way to lessen death.

Think of these three random examples:
Asatruism, the religion based on the Norse Mythologies, claims that if a man lives a brave and bold life, and dies in battle for something he believes in, he will be brought to Valhalla by angels called Valkyries, where he will be considered Einherjar. He will live and fight and be born again every day in Odin's battle hall for eternity.
In Christianity, a religion based mostly on Biblical scriptures, a person either goes to eternal torment in the afterlife or to Heaven to sing the praises of their Holy God, Yahweh. The deciding factor between these two is whether a person accepts Jesus Christ, the human version of Yahweh, sent as a human sacrifice to pay for the sins of mankind. If you believe in Jesus, and live by his laws, you can go to Heaven.
Buddhism, like it's earlier root of Hinduism says that if we can throw off all attachment and desire in our lives, we will be born again into another life, that is easier and this reincarnation will continue to happen until we become one with everything, called Nirvana.

In each of these three examples, there are ways that the living can have some control over their own deaths and their afterlives. And that may just be the point. It offers us a reason not to fear and goes one step farther by providing a means to change the way we live in our current lives.

While all of these religions I've mentioned are not bad, in their own right, the focus they put on death and what happens in the afterlife have profound affects on  their specific individualities in life. So, while a Viking who believes in Valhalla may have little fear of death, because of what he believes will happen in life, he very well may throw his life away in some vain attempt to die in battle. Asatru, in it's classic formal belief system, valued this kind of rash behavior.
In Buddhism, those who follow this religion or philosophy look forward to being one with everything.
And finally, in Christianity, once we add the rule that we must convert others to the same belief system, we are focused on not going to Hell and going to Heaven instead.

What each of these fail to do, however is help us have a healthy understanding that death is natural, normal and actually, in some cases, not a bad thing at all. But we have to look at things differently. We cannot be rash and throw away our lives erratically, but we also must understand that it is going to happen.

To me, that means we need to be smart about how we live every day, to both lengthen our lives and to get as much out of it as possible. To be coerced 'at the gunpoint of Hell' to live a certain way, is one of the best cons ever played on humanity. Since we are not focused on doing good or being moral for the sake of being good and moral and instead out of fear, we actually become even more selfish and shallow.

But a rational and healthy understanding of death, and the fact that we really don't have any knowledge of what's after death regardless of the claims of religions, helps us to be more willing and able to live a full, moral life without irrational or undue fears of the afterlife.

The freedom that this provides in daily living can mean the difference between a negative and unhealthy personal philosophy and a positive and compassionate one.