The story is told of two Jewish men from New York. They met in the street one afternoon. Their discussion turned to the existence or non-existence of a supreme being. One of the men says, "With all of the suffering in the world - with all of the kids in Africa and Haiti and even our own Appalachian region living on the edge of starvation - with heart disease and cancer being the killers they are, and Alzheimer's there for those unlucky enough to live into it - with mining disasters that take parents from children and spouses from spouses - how could it be possible that any God exists?"
The second man replies, "I lost my family in the Holocaust." Nothing more needed saying. If there is a God, where was He? How could we take seriously a God who so deserts His Chosen People?
Just then one of the men looks at his watch. "It's almost 3!" he exclaims. And the other replies, "Oh - we gotta hurry. We'll be late for prayers!"
I do frequently get myself caught up in the same sort of attitude - finding myself certain that no loving God could permit what seems to be going on, but then it's time for prayer.
Doubt and faith. Faith and doubt. I'm not sure that it's possible to have a meaningful, life-defining and life-changing faith unless you have first wrestled with the other side. Faith that is there only because of upbringing, because of cultural conditioning, is a start, and we'll take it as a start. But it's only a start. Mature faith, a faith to grow by, is faith that has had an honest encounter with its flip side, doubt.
If you are not familiar with Elie Wiesel's work you should become so. Wiesel survived the Nazi camps. His family didn't. He was in the same camp as his father. Wiesel went to sleep one night. His father was in a nearby bunk. When Wiesel awoke the next morning someone else was in his father's bunk. That's how Wiesel found out his father had passed away. In another passage Wiesel describes the hanging of another prisoner, a prisoner who had committed a terrible offense. Well, as terrible an offense as a ten-year-old could manage. Because of the boy's small size he was strangling for quite some time before death mercifully intervened.
After the war Wiesel moved to Paris to live with relatives.This boy, all of seventeen, recounts looking into a mirror, and seeing only a corpse looking back.
And the question, always the question: God, where were you? Were you busy? Had a better offer? Wiesel did come to a point where his faith and his Jewish tradition took on renewed meaning for him. But that question - that one question - can it ever go away?
Do you think that Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu - yes, Archbishop Tutu - went through their periods of doubt? How could they not?
And where was God in that June twenty-six years ago when I was living out of the back of my station wagon by a stream in western Pennsylvania, with my wife and kids in a perfectly good home 700 miles away? There was that night when I remember drinking two beers out of a case. I woke up the next day in my car, having no clue how I'd gotten there. I looked for what remained of the case of beer after the two cans I'd remembered drinking, and found out that I'd gone through the case. I remembered nothing after the first two. Just FYI: that's called a blackout. A blackout is a big red flashing warning sign that you're in trouble. Deep.
I had no right asking the "Where were you, God?" question. My damage was self-inflicted. I was the perp. But my wife and kids certainly could have been asking.
Every single one of the people I've described found their faith after - or during - their fight with doubt. Me too.
Why doesn't God just fix everything? In When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Rabbi Abraham Heschel describes three characteristics attributed to God. God is all-loving. God is omnipotent. God is omniscient. Heschel's position is that we must surrender one of these attributes. That's not my answer. To me, to give up any of these is to give up God.
So why does God let this stuff happen? Short answer: I don't know. I wish I did. Or, maybe I should be glad I don't. I do know that my walk, as wobbly-legged as it is at times, is a walk of faith. It's faith that I only found on the other side of doubt.
As always, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for hanging out for a few, my friends!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
More BP, then 'nuff of that for me
Yesterday's blog post was about the BP oil spill. There was some reaction. Interestingly enough, my wife reposted it on her Facebook page, and the post drew more comments from her friends than I did from mine. Hmmmm. . .I am grateful for all of it. I'm hoping for some discussion or observation any time I post. Those who know me know I'm a gentle, tolerant soul. I will take you seriously, and I only look like I bite. (That's a joke, son.)
I do want to respond to one of the responses. It tended toward a point of view contrary to mine, and that response deserves a serious, respectful response.
The person (I'm not using his name - not because of anger but because I'm not sure he would want it used) pointed out that this was an accident. My question: at what point in the BP hierarchy was this an accident?
There is no doubt in my mind that, among the rig workers, this was absolutely a tragic accident. Nobody wakes up in the morning and goes to work thinking, "Gee, I think I'll blow an oil rig, create an environmental catastrophe, and kill a bunch of coworkers while I'm at it." Nobody in their right mind would think that, and I'm confident nobody did. For the workers, it was an accident.
But a little higher up the ladder. . .from Wikipedia: " Internal BP documents show that BP engineers had concerns as early as 2009 that the metal casing BP wanted to use might collapse under high pressure. . . In March 2010, the rig experienced problems that included drilling mud falling into the undersea oil formation, sudden gas releases, a pipe falling into the well, and at least three occasions of the blowout preventer leaking fluid.[26] The rig's mechanic has stated that the well had problems for months and that the drill repeatedly kicked due to high gas pressure providing resistance. . .the blowout preventer was damaged in a previously unreported accident in late March 2010. . . Preliminary findings from BP’s internal investigation released by the House Committee on Energy and Commerce on May 25 indicated several serious warning signs in the hours just prior to the explosion." I won't quote the whole article. But the point is, BP knew this, and ordered drilling to proceed anyway.
Can you seriously refer to this as an accident from management's point of view? If you take your car around a sharp curve at 100 miles per hour, you will probably have a crash. You most certainly will not have an accident.
The person who responded pointed out that they put gas in your car. Let's not give them too much credit here - they didn't do it for charity - but he does point to a valid, larger issue. Our problem isn't just addiction to foreign oil. It's addiction to oil, foreign or domestic. It really doesn't matter if you boycott BP gas stations. They're usually franchisees, and you'll be hurting one of the innocent parties. When a service station needs to fill their underground tanks, in most instances they make phone calls to local storage facilities to see who has the best price that day, and that's where they buy. You may be in a Clark station, but the gas could be Shell. It could be BP. You don't know.
The ironic think is, it's still hard to find someone to admit that Jimmy Carter was right - just 30 years ahead of his time. And Al Gore? Maybe he's absolutely wrong. Maybe he's a complete crackpot. But. . .but. . .what if he's right? Al Gore has presented his evidence. Where's the contrary evidence? What if he's right?
BP does employ a lot of people. I just can't see the argument that employing thousands compensates for killing two dozen in two incidents. Yes, the workers knew what they had gotten into - deep water drilling is a risky business - but in this case the company's management seems to have ignored and maybe even worsened the risks. Criminally so? That remains to be seen.
This wasn't meant to be a broadside against BP, but maybe it was. Other companies do deep water drilling more safely. BP has a particularly bad track record. My heart goes out to the workers who were lost. . .to their families. . .to those who continue to work at this dangerous job. Bless you all.
But this doesn't change what I see as the larger issue in all of this. Many of both parties have noted that we are just too dependent on the gloopy toxic messy environment-killing stuff.
As always, thanks for hanging out with me for a few. I do hope I've been respectful in addressing this.
I do want to respond to one of the responses. It tended toward a point of view contrary to mine, and that response deserves a serious, respectful response.
The person (I'm not using his name - not because of anger but because I'm not sure he would want it used) pointed out that this was an accident. My question: at what point in the BP hierarchy was this an accident?
There is no doubt in my mind that, among the rig workers, this was absolutely a tragic accident. Nobody wakes up in the morning and goes to work thinking, "Gee, I think I'll blow an oil rig, create an environmental catastrophe, and kill a bunch of coworkers while I'm at it." Nobody in their right mind would think that, and I'm confident nobody did. For the workers, it was an accident.
But a little higher up the ladder. . .from Wikipedia: " Internal BP documents show that BP engineers had concerns as early as 2009 that the metal casing BP wanted to use might collapse under high pressure. . . In March 2010, the rig experienced problems that included drilling mud falling into the undersea oil formation, sudden gas releases, a pipe falling into the well, and at least three occasions of the blowout preventer leaking fluid.[26] The rig's mechanic has stated that the well had problems for months and that the drill repeatedly kicked due to high gas pressure providing resistance. . .the blowout preventer was damaged in a previously unreported accident in late March 2010. . . Preliminary findings from BP’s internal investigation released by the House Committee on Energy and Commerce on May 25 indicated several serious warning signs in the hours just prior to the explosion." I won't quote the whole article. But the point is, BP knew this, and ordered drilling to proceed anyway.
Can you seriously refer to this as an accident from management's point of view? If you take your car around a sharp curve at 100 miles per hour, you will probably have a crash. You most certainly will not have an accident.
The person who responded pointed out that they put gas in your car. Let's not give them too much credit here - they didn't do it for charity - but he does point to a valid, larger issue. Our problem isn't just addiction to foreign oil. It's addiction to oil, foreign or domestic. It really doesn't matter if you boycott BP gas stations. They're usually franchisees, and you'll be hurting one of the innocent parties. When a service station needs to fill their underground tanks, in most instances they make phone calls to local storage facilities to see who has the best price that day, and that's where they buy. You may be in a Clark station, but the gas could be Shell. It could be BP. You don't know.
The ironic think is, it's still hard to find someone to admit that Jimmy Carter was right - just 30 years ahead of his time. And Al Gore? Maybe he's absolutely wrong. Maybe he's a complete crackpot. But. . .but. . .what if he's right? Al Gore has presented his evidence. Where's the contrary evidence? What if he's right?
BP does employ a lot of people. I just can't see the argument that employing thousands compensates for killing two dozen in two incidents. Yes, the workers knew what they had gotten into - deep water drilling is a risky business - but in this case the company's management seems to have ignored and maybe even worsened the risks. Criminally so? That remains to be seen.
This wasn't meant to be a broadside against BP, but maybe it was. Other companies do deep water drilling more safely. BP has a particularly bad track record. My heart goes out to the workers who were lost. . .to their families. . .to those who continue to work at this dangerous job. Bless you all.
But this doesn't change what I see as the larger issue in all of this. Many of both parties have noted that we are just too dependent on the gloopy toxic messy environment-killing stuff.
As always, thanks for hanging out with me for a few. I do hope I've been respectful in addressing this.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
And then there was BP
And then there was BP.
My full-time job involves working with energy efficiency. I almost fell into the job, and I'm very glad I did. My view of our proper relationship to our planet is a stewardship view. This earth was not given to us to use in any way we wish. Rather, it's our task to care for it and pass it on in the best shape we can manage. I want all of my kids and grandkids - and all of your kids and grandkids - to enjoy this world, this marvel of God's creation, just as I have.
And then there was BP.
Working in energy efficiency does have its discouraging aspects. Even if we in the U.S. build every building to maximum possible efficiency - even if we convert our entire automobile fleet to all electric cars - even if we manage as an entire society to become completely carbon neutral - the increase in energy demand from China would eat our entire energy savings for breakfast. The problem with the Kyoto protocols (remember those?) wasn't what they demanded from us. It was in what they didn't demand from anyone else.
Even from China, there's some hope, although that hope is accompanied by another note of discouragement for us. The Chinese have moved into using more wind power. They have moved into the manufacture of the equipment for wind generation in a big way. The discouraging note? This is a field that could have opened up a lot of green jobs for us. The Chinese beat us to it. I'm not shocked. Our view of history tends to go back no further than the last election. Our idea of long-term financial planning gyrates between the Democrats' tax-and-spend-like-drunken-sailors policies, the Republicans' don't-tax-and-spend-like-drunken-sailors-anyway policies, and the new entrant, the Tea Partiers' all-we-want-is-everything-for-nothing policies. Our corporate mentality rarely thinks beyond the next quarter. Long-range planning, long-term investment? In any arena, at any level - FUHGEDDABOUTIT!
And then there was BP.
There have been those who suggested that President Obama should meet with senior executives of British Petroleum to discuss the situation. Never mind that an investigation has started to determine if the Gulf oil leak was a result of a crime or crimes. Just meet with the guy, will ya?
Gee, why didn't Herbert Hoover have a cup of tea with that nice Al Capone?
There is a congressman from Alaska who said that this was no catastrophe.. This was the same congressman who wanted the "Bridge to Nowhere" built. It's enough to make one think that Alaskan politicians have a loose attachment to reality. There is other such evidence. Alaska did have the Exxon Valdez. That incident was a fraction of the size of this Gulf spill, and clean-up should have been simpler. The Alaska coast was rocky, and water sprayed at high pressure was an available tool.
It's been 20+ years, and the effects are still felt.
A Republican does get some props from me. Governor Jindal of Louisiana has responded with the passion I'd hope for. Part of the reason I supported Obama in 2008, and will again in 2012, is his coolness of temperament and his formidable intellect. But this is a situation in which I'd like to see him fire in anger (not literally, OK?) as Jindal has done. I'd like to see how much this matters on a visceral, emotional level. There is such a thing as constructively losing it.
Even Jindal whiffed on the question of resuming and even expanding deep water drilling. I fear that the administration may miss this one too. My question for the "Drill, baby, drill" folks (and Sarah Palin is not alone on this front): You have now seen how things have gone terribly, terribly wrong. Before this happened oil executives talked much about their ability to drill safely in deep water. You saw the ads. You now know that they were lying. Not misinformed. Lying. But we bought it. Where was the voice that asked, "this well is under a mile of water. If something goes wrong, what's the action plan? You can't get divers down there and all equipment acts differently under the kind of pressure that's down there?" Nowhere, that's where the questioners were.
You have seen two explosions at these facilities in the past five years claim 26 lives. Are you OK with that?
Southern Louisiana has roughly 40% of our nation's wetlands, with incredible biodiversity. These wetlands may already have been thrown into a slow-motion but irreversible decline. That tool that was so handy in Alaska - that high-pressure water - would destroy those wetlands. Once the oil gets into the wetlands, there may be no cleanup available.
You want more deep water drilling? With no more assurances than we have now that the safeguards are adequate? We found out that there are no safeguards. Even if all the oil companies offered every assurance that this would never happen again, would we seriously believe them?
This evening as I walked from the kitchen to my den-home-officey-kind-of-room, Logan, our 6-year-old grandson, was playing at the kitchen table on our daughter's laptop. This caused some consternation to said daughter because Logan was supposed to be eating his dinner at the time. Meri, our 9-year-old granddaughter, just on the edge of preadolescent hormonal upheaval, was eating her dinner. Lovely brown-blond hair, green eyed, long-limbed Meri. Next week the Colorado grandkids will come here for a visit. We've got three in Quincy that we think about every day. And, one of our daughters married a guy with three kids, and they are now our grandkids too. Twelve in all. Twelve.
To all twelve of you: I have wanted to hand to you a world at least as awesome as the one I have had the privilege to enjoy. I've been to the top of Pikes Peak, and I have seen the view that inspired the writing of "America, the Beautiful." I've been on the ocean, and have seen darkness so thick it seems to have a density of its own - you feel like you could reach out and touch it. I've seen stars reflected in the ocean waters. I've felt the power of earthquakes and seen the might of thunderstorms. Just the quiet by an Iowa farm field is awe-inspiring if you know what to listen for. I have hoped to help preserve all of that for you.
I have done what I can. I am so sorry I could not do more.
Because then came BP.
My full-time job involves working with energy efficiency. I almost fell into the job, and I'm very glad I did. My view of our proper relationship to our planet is a stewardship view. This earth was not given to us to use in any way we wish. Rather, it's our task to care for it and pass it on in the best shape we can manage. I want all of my kids and grandkids - and all of your kids and grandkids - to enjoy this world, this marvel of God's creation, just as I have.
And then there was BP.
Working in energy efficiency does have its discouraging aspects. Even if we in the U.S. build every building to maximum possible efficiency - even if we convert our entire automobile fleet to all electric cars - even if we manage as an entire society to become completely carbon neutral - the increase in energy demand from China would eat our entire energy savings for breakfast. The problem with the Kyoto protocols (remember those?) wasn't what they demanded from us. It was in what they didn't demand from anyone else.
Even from China, there's some hope, although that hope is accompanied by another note of discouragement for us. The Chinese have moved into using more wind power. They have moved into the manufacture of the equipment for wind generation in a big way. The discouraging note? This is a field that could have opened up a lot of green jobs for us. The Chinese beat us to it. I'm not shocked. Our view of history tends to go back no further than the last election. Our idea of long-term financial planning gyrates between the Democrats' tax-and-spend-like-drunken-sailors policies, the Republicans' don't-tax-and-spend-like-drunken-sailors-anyway policies, and the new entrant, the Tea Partiers' all-we-want-is-everything-for-nothing policies. Our corporate mentality rarely thinks beyond the next quarter. Long-range planning, long-term investment? In any arena, at any level - FUHGEDDABOUTIT!
And then there was BP.
There have been those who suggested that President Obama should meet with senior executives of British Petroleum to discuss the situation. Never mind that an investigation has started to determine if the Gulf oil leak was a result of a crime or crimes. Just meet with the guy, will ya?
Gee, why didn't Herbert Hoover have a cup of tea with that nice Al Capone?
There is a congressman from Alaska who said that this was no catastrophe.. This was the same congressman who wanted the "Bridge to Nowhere" built. It's enough to make one think that Alaskan politicians have a loose attachment to reality. There is other such evidence. Alaska did have the Exxon Valdez. That incident was a fraction of the size of this Gulf spill, and clean-up should have been simpler. The Alaska coast was rocky, and water sprayed at high pressure was an available tool.
It's been 20+ years, and the effects are still felt.
A Republican does get some props from me. Governor Jindal of Louisiana has responded with the passion I'd hope for. Part of the reason I supported Obama in 2008, and will again in 2012, is his coolness of temperament and his formidable intellect. But this is a situation in which I'd like to see him fire in anger (not literally, OK?) as Jindal has done. I'd like to see how much this matters on a visceral, emotional level. There is such a thing as constructively losing it.
Even Jindal whiffed on the question of resuming and even expanding deep water drilling. I fear that the administration may miss this one too. My question for the "Drill, baby, drill" folks (and Sarah Palin is not alone on this front): You have now seen how things have gone terribly, terribly wrong. Before this happened oil executives talked much about their ability to drill safely in deep water. You saw the ads. You now know that they were lying. Not misinformed. Lying. But we bought it. Where was the voice that asked, "this well is under a mile of water. If something goes wrong, what's the action plan? You can't get divers down there and all equipment acts differently under the kind of pressure that's down there?" Nowhere, that's where the questioners were.
You have seen two explosions at these facilities in the past five years claim 26 lives. Are you OK with that?
Southern Louisiana has roughly 40% of our nation's wetlands, with incredible biodiversity. These wetlands may already have been thrown into a slow-motion but irreversible decline. That tool that was so handy in Alaska - that high-pressure water - would destroy those wetlands. Once the oil gets into the wetlands, there may be no cleanup available.
You want more deep water drilling? With no more assurances than we have now that the safeguards are adequate? We found out that there are no safeguards. Even if all the oil companies offered every assurance that this would never happen again, would we seriously believe them?
This evening as I walked from the kitchen to my den-home-officey-kind-of-room, Logan, our 6-year-old grandson, was playing at the kitchen table on our daughter's laptop. This caused some consternation to said daughter because Logan was supposed to be eating his dinner at the time. Meri, our 9-year-old granddaughter, just on the edge of preadolescent hormonal upheaval, was eating her dinner. Lovely brown-blond hair, green eyed, long-limbed Meri. Next week the Colorado grandkids will come here for a visit. We've got three in Quincy that we think about every day. And, one of our daughters married a guy with three kids, and they are now our grandkids too. Twelve in all. Twelve.
To all twelve of you: I have wanted to hand to you a world at least as awesome as the one I have had the privilege to enjoy. I've been to the top of Pikes Peak, and I have seen the view that inspired the writing of "America, the Beautiful." I've been on the ocean, and have seen darkness so thick it seems to have a density of its own - you feel like you could reach out and touch it. I've seen stars reflected in the ocean waters. I've felt the power of earthquakes and seen the might of thunderstorms. Just the quiet by an Iowa farm field is awe-inspiring if you know what to listen for. I have hoped to help preserve all of that for you.
I have done what I can. I am so sorry I could not do more.
Because then came BP.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Why I'm Catholic
I hate to go about it this way, but I' starting with a negative approach to this question. (This is a topic that will take more than one post. I promise I won't post them all in a row). Maybe today's post would be more properly called, "After all that's gone on in the past ten years, how could you possibly still be Catholic?" It breaks my heart to admit it, but it's a fair question. I would not have you think me a Pollyanna-ish naif. For those who know me well, naive is about the last word they would use to describe me.
So, after the John Geoghan and the Lawrence Soens and all of the other priests who have abused children - and after finding out it wasn't just in the US - how could I still be Catholic? Why would I want to claim that status?
After the scandal of some bishops being complicit in the cover-up - an angry prosecutor in Boston said that the only reason Cardinal Bernard Law, Archbishop of Boston, wasn't indicted was that the statute of limitations had run out on any chargeable offense - how could I still be Catholic? Why would I be proud of that status, as I am?
Fair questions.
Soon after Jesus' earthly ministry the church was started. Most accounts would place the beginning of the church on Pentecost. For some years afterward Christianity was thought of as another Jewish sect, similar to the Essenes. At one point both Christians and Jews realized that this new group was different enough in thought, doctrine and practice that it could no longer be thought of as Jewish. And, thus, the Christian Church as a separate entity from the Jewish synagogue took more definitive form.
The Church, as founded, was a perfect, pristine institution. But, the Holy Spirit made probably the only mistake She has ever made. She let people in. You know, real life, flesh-and-blood human beings. Warts and all. And She continues to let these warted warped humans stay. My dominant image of church: not a runway fashion show, but a hospital for souls. I saw one church newsletter - denomination to remain nameless - that closed with "Let's all impress Heavenly Father with our righteousness." I didn't know whether to gag or laugh out loud.
So where does that put me with the sex scandals of the Church? I'm furious. Read that, "FURIOUS!!!" My first thought is for the victims. Of all the people in this world around whom you should be absolutely completely safe, a minister of any denomination should be thought of in the same class as parents, the doctor, your teacher. And I am outraged that some priests - and some teachers, and some doctors, and some parents, and some ministers - have not lived up to this. Those kids often are scarred forever.
I see no reason for any priest, teacher,minister or anyone else in a position of authority to be treated less severely in the criminal justice system than anyone else. Quite the opposite. That would mean that anyone complicit in a cover-up should be treated as an accessory.
I'm not impressed by the press' coverage of this issue. It has fed an anti-Catholic bias that is already well-fed. One would easily lose sight of the fact that the vast, VAST majority of priests understand celibacy as a gift from God to the church. They understand the vow they took, and live out that vow faithfully. Most of those folks don't get stories in the newspapers. And there's always the cluck-clucking of those who say, "I knew they did it. They all do it." No they don't. If you must spew your ignorance - if you must advertise how ill-informed you are - you may do so. Please be aware that I, for one, will be paying no attention to you.
I'm angry because this has provided grist for the mill of the right-wingers within our church who think that screening gay men out of the seminaries and priesthood will solve all ills. It wouldn't. If you were to draw up a profile of the pedophile, the word "gay" wouldn't be there. These people are usually straight. Often they are or have been married. Often they are divorced or their marriages are troubled because they don't deal well with relationships with equals.
Besides, if you understand celibacy, and have taken a vow to it, what difference could it possibly make whether you are gay or straight? The Catholic Church has never held sexual orientation to be sinful.
I'm upset because the left-wingers in our church also ride their hobby horses over it. "Let them marry! That'll relieve the sexual pressure!" Please see the paragraph above about the difficulties of pedophiles in relationships. Pedophilia, like rape, is not a crime of sex. It's a crime of power. If you take a pedophile and marry him, you don't have a non-pedophile. You have a married pedophile.
I did note that this will take more than one post to cover. One's faith is a deep issue, and if discussed at all should be discussed in depth. But, the scandal has had such prominence that, before discussing the positives I find in my faith, I have to acknowledge the negatives we've had.
As always, I'd love your thoughts. Thanks for hanging with me!
So, after the John Geoghan and the Lawrence Soens and all of the other priests who have abused children - and after finding out it wasn't just in the US - how could I still be Catholic? Why would I want to claim that status?
After the scandal of some bishops being complicit in the cover-up - an angry prosecutor in Boston said that the only reason Cardinal Bernard Law, Archbishop of Boston, wasn't indicted was that the statute of limitations had run out on any chargeable offense - how could I still be Catholic? Why would I be proud of that status, as I am?
Fair questions.
Soon after Jesus' earthly ministry the church was started. Most accounts would place the beginning of the church on Pentecost. For some years afterward Christianity was thought of as another Jewish sect, similar to the Essenes. At one point both Christians and Jews realized that this new group was different enough in thought, doctrine and practice that it could no longer be thought of as Jewish. And, thus, the Christian Church as a separate entity from the Jewish synagogue took more definitive form.
The Church, as founded, was a perfect, pristine institution. But, the Holy Spirit made probably the only mistake She has ever made. She let people in. You know, real life, flesh-and-blood human beings. Warts and all. And She continues to let these warted warped humans stay. My dominant image of church: not a runway fashion show, but a hospital for souls. I saw one church newsletter - denomination to remain nameless - that closed with "Let's all impress Heavenly Father with our righteousness." I didn't know whether to gag or laugh out loud.
So where does that put me with the sex scandals of the Church? I'm furious. Read that, "FURIOUS!!!" My first thought is for the victims. Of all the people in this world around whom you should be absolutely completely safe, a minister of any denomination should be thought of in the same class as parents, the doctor, your teacher. And I am outraged that some priests - and some teachers, and some doctors, and some parents, and some ministers - have not lived up to this. Those kids often are scarred forever.
I see no reason for any priest, teacher,minister or anyone else in a position of authority to be treated less severely in the criminal justice system than anyone else. Quite the opposite. That would mean that anyone complicit in a cover-up should be treated as an accessory.
I'm not impressed by the press' coverage of this issue. It has fed an anti-Catholic bias that is already well-fed. One would easily lose sight of the fact that the vast, VAST majority of priests understand celibacy as a gift from God to the church. They understand the vow they took, and live out that vow faithfully. Most of those folks don't get stories in the newspapers. And there's always the cluck-clucking of those who say, "I knew they did it. They all do it." No they don't. If you must spew your ignorance - if you must advertise how ill-informed you are - you may do so. Please be aware that I, for one, will be paying no attention to you.
I'm angry because this has provided grist for the mill of the right-wingers within our church who think that screening gay men out of the seminaries and priesthood will solve all ills. It wouldn't. If you were to draw up a profile of the pedophile, the word "gay" wouldn't be there. These people are usually straight. Often they are or have been married. Often they are divorced or their marriages are troubled because they don't deal well with relationships with equals.
Besides, if you understand celibacy, and have taken a vow to it, what difference could it possibly make whether you are gay or straight? The Catholic Church has never held sexual orientation to be sinful.
I'm upset because the left-wingers in our church also ride their hobby horses over it. "Let them marry! That'll relieve the sexual pressure!" Please see the paragraph above about the difficulties of pedophiles in relationships. Pedophilia, like rape, is not a crime of sex. It's a crime of power. If you take a pedophile and marry him, you don't have a non-pedophile. You have a married pedophile.
I did note that this will take more than one post to cover. One's faith is a deep issue, and if discussed at all should be discussed in depth. But, the scandal has had such prominence that, before discussing the positives I find in my faith, I have to acknowledge the negatives we've had.
As always, I'd love your thoughts. Thanks for hanging with me!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Walt and Vi
There was a fellow named Walt. Walt spent most of his younger years in and around Muscatine. Came WWII, and Walt's country called. Walt answered. He fought in the European Theater. At one point he was injured badly enough that he was not expected to survive. He did survive, and returned home after the war.
There was a woman named Violet. During WWII Vi worked at the former Servus Rubber in Rock Island. That company was geared up for war production. "They also serve who only stand and wait" said Milton. Vi waited but she did a lot more than just stand.
After the War Walt met Vi. They married, then they had children. And children And children. Fourteen in all - three sons, eleven daughters. One of those sons dies in infancy. The other two also served when their country called them to duty in Vietnam - Joe in the USMC, Donald in the Army. Seems that words like honor and duty burned bright in Walt and Vi's home.
One of Walt and Vi's daughters grew up and married me. Cindy and I will celebrate our 35th anniversary in June. We had five kids - four daughters - and twelve grandkids. When Walt and Vi's kids have a family reunion it's quite a sight. "Who are you? And whose are you?!"
Mortality caught up with Walt and Vi, as it does, eventually, to all of us. Walt's been gone since 1988, and Vi since 2007. Today Cindy and I placed flowers on their graves. Those graves are in one of those places where the ghosts are never far away - The National Cemetery on Arsenal Island in Rock Island. It's where Cindy and I expect to be buried, since I am an honorably discharged veteran of the US Navy. I'm very proud of that.
So we placed the flowers on the grave. We stood a few moments and said a prayer. I made the sign of the cross, and we left in silence. To say much of anything would have seemed just wrong.
One weird visual juxtaposition occurred as we were leaving. The National Cemetery is very near the Confederate Cemetery. During the Civil War there was a prison camp for confederate POW's on Arsenal Island. Just across the street is the Rock Island Arsenal Golf Course. So, on this most hallowed of days for Americans, in this most hallowed of places, as we left we saw golf carts chugging around.
Walt and Vi, thanks for your service, both at home and in Europe. Thanks for raising such an interesting family filled with such honorable people - sons and daughters who have the integrity to live to the best lights they know. Thanks for raising my best friend, my spouse, my lover who has given me 35 wonderful years.
Thank you!
There was a woman named Violet. During WWII Vi worked at the former Servus Rubber in Rock Island. That company was geared up for war production. "They also serve who only stand and wait" said Milton. Vi waited but she did a lot more than just stand.
After the War Walt met Vi. They married, then they had children. And children And children. Fourteen in all - three sons, eleven daughters. One of those sons dies in infancy. The other two also served when their country called them to duty in Vietnam - Joe in the USMC, Donald in the Army. Seems that words like honor and duty burned bright in Walt and Vi's home.
One of Walt and Vi's daughters grew up and married me. Cindy and I will celebrate our 35th anniversary in June. We had five kids - four daughters - and twelve grandkids. When Walt and Vi's kids have a family reunion it's quite a sight. "Who are you? And whose are you?!"
Mortality caught up with Walt and Vi, as it does, eventually, to all of us. Walt's been gone since 1988, and Vi since 2007. Today Cindy and I placed flowers on their graves. Those graves are in one of those places where the ghosts are never far away - The National Cemetery on Arsenal Island in Rock Island. It's where Cindy and I expect to be buried, since I am an honorably discharged veteran of the US Navy. I'm very proud of that.
So we placed the flowers on the grave. We stood a few moments and said a prayer. I made the sign of the cross, and we left in silence. To say much of anything would have seemed just wrong.
One weird visual juxtaposition occurred as we were leaving. The National Cemetery is very near the Confederate Cemetery. During the Civil War there was a prison camp for confederate POW's on Arsenal Island. Just across the street is the Rock Island Arsenal Golf Course. So, on this most hallowed of days for Americans, in this most hallowed of places, as we left we saw golf carts chugging around.
Walt and Vi, thanks for your service, both at home and in Europe. Thanks for raising such an interesting family filled with such honorable people - sons and daughters who have the integrity to live to the best lights they know. Thanks for raising my best friend, my spouse, my lover who has given me 35 wonderful years.
Thank you!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Service
BP would be too easy pickins. I will pick on them, surely. I am wondering where the "Drill Baby Drill" chorus is now.
But not today.
One of my high school classmates posted a status mentioning his visit to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington - the Wall. I have never been to the Wall. The Wall is one of those places where those who gave all are memorialized in a settng in which you can feel the ghosts. Hawaii has more than one such - The USS Arizona monument, the Punchbowl.
I have visited one such place. It was a June Wednesday morning when I stopped at the Gettysburg battlefield. I don't even know if they have a visitors' center there - I stopped on a road that runs by one edge of the field. I saw no monuments, no memorials. Just - the field. Even so, the ghosts were there.
I live near another such: the National Cemetery on the Rock Island Arsenal.
"Happy Memorial Day" is a horribly inappropriate greeting. Maybe, "Thankful Memorial Day." It can't be happy when we're reminded that freedom isn't free. It has cost us dearly.
So, from me to those ghosts: I've always been OK with words. I don't have any words that even come close to saying "Thank you" strongly enough.
But, as inadequate as it is: Thank you. And may God be good to you.
But not today.
One of my high school classmates posted a status mentioning his visit to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington - the Wall. I have never been to the Wall. The Wall is one of those places where those who gave all are memorialized in a settng in which you can feel the ghosts. Hawaii has more than one such - The USS Arizona monument, the Punchbowl.
I have visited one such place. It was a June Wednesday morning when I stopped at the Gettysburg battlefield. I don't even know if they have a visitors' center there - I stopped on a road that runs by one edge of the field. I saw no monuments, no memorials. Just - the field. Even so, the ghosts were there.
I live near another such: the National Cemetery on the Rock Island Arsenal.
"Happy Memorial Day" is a horribly inappropriate greeting. Maybe, "Thankful Memorial Day." It can't be happy when we're reminded that freedom isn't free. It has cost us dearly.
So, from me to those ghosts: I've always been OK with words. I don't have any words that even come close to saying "Thank you" strongly enough.
But, as inadequate as it is: Thank you. And may God be good to you.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Anesthesia
Dysthymia has been my particular issue. If you Google dysthymia you'll be directed to a lot of web sites dealing with depression. Dysthymia is related to depression. The mood swings of depression are more pronounced than those of dysthymia, but dysthymia's milder form of depression is constant enough to be thought of as a personality trait. I rarely have the crash-into-a-black-hole feeling of a true depressive, although I have known it and there's nothing worse than that complete hopelessness - but it's also uncommon for me to be feeling really good about things. I have a very hard time just having fun. Letting loose is not something I do easily and a good belly laugh from me is rare. My mood is just sub - whatever.
And, pullleeeze - there's no point in asking what we're depressed about. If you're depressed about something, then it isn't depression. It's just sadness. Depression, dysthymia are all the more torturous because there's no aim to it. I wish I could point to a reason. I can't. Those who've been there know what I'm talking about.
Thus the genesis of addictions. It begins with the genetic predisposition. The research is clear and compelling - longitudinal studies, separated twin studies - that having an addict in your immediate family line places you at much higher risk of addiction than someone who has no such person in their ancestry. Some have gone so far as to say, "No genetics, no addiction." I don't know that I buy that strong a statement, but it's only because we don't know all of our own genetic makeup. We haven't identified one gene as the cause.
The second precursor is often some form of mental illness, some mood disorder. Dysthymia. Depression. There are a lot of folks among us with some form of social anxiety disorder. There are many, many bipolars among us.
It's really difficult for someone caught up in these disorders to describe their lives to someone who has no idea. So, we find something to soothe the pain.
Booze.
Coke (no, not Coca Cola).
Tobacco (sure helps with that stress, doesn't it? Only, good luck with telling your kids why they shouldn't smoke.)
Exercise. I've said there's no such thing as a good addiction. You can become addicted to a process as well as to a substance. The reason there's no such thing as a good addiction is that the line between habit and addiction is crossed when you are no longer free to choose to do something or not do it, You'll see people, on 35-degree days in a rainy, snowy wind-driven mix, jogging in their Spandex. They're as addicted as any smoker.
For many of us the substance or process of choice served us very well as anesthetic. It numbed the pain. Many of us would say that we don't even like the taste of the stuff. We just wanted relief. The problem was, while it numbed the pain it did nothing to solve the underlying problem. It only made it worse - I, a dysthymic, used alcohol, a depressant, and expected that depressant to help with depression?
Don't expect sense or logic from us.
I don't know if the term is still in common use, but mental health professionals have used the term dual diagnosis to describe this - a person who is an addict and who has some other mental disease. For me, once we identified the underlying disease, I began to be able to address the drinking, too.
And, only at that point was I able to base my faith on something real. More properly, on Someone who became more real to me than I ever was to myself.
For those caught up in this process as well as for the families of such folks, my heart is with you. You may convince yourself you're not worthwhile. You are, most certainly to me. God bless, and please feel free to contact me, if you think it may help.
As always, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for hanging out with me!
And, pullleeeze - there's no point in asking what we're depressed about. If you're depressed about something, then it isn't depression. It's just sadness. Depression, dysthymia are all the more torturous because there's no aim to it. I wish I could point to a reason. I can't. Those who've been there know what I'm talking about.
Thus the genesis of addictions. It begins with the genetic predisposition. The research is clear and compelling - longitudinal studies, separated twin studies - that having an addict in your immediate family line places you at much higher risk of addiction than someone who has no such person in their ancestry. Some have gone so far as to say, "No genetics, no addiction." I don't know that I buy that strong a statement, but it's only because we don't know all of our own genetic makeup. We haven't identified one gene as the cause.
The second precursor is often some form of mental illness, some mood disorder. Dysthymia. Depression. There are a lot of folks among us with some form of social anxiety disorder. There are many, many bipolars among us.
It's really difficult for someone caught up in these disorders to describe their lives to someone who has no idea. So, we find something to soothe the pain.
Booze.
Coke (no, not Coca Cola).
Tobacco (sure helps with that stress, doesn't it? Only, good luck with telling your kids why they shouldn't smoke.)
Exercise. I've said there's no such thing as a good addiction. You can become addicted to a process as well as to a substance. The reason there's no such thing as a good addiction is that the line between habit and addiction is crossed when you are no longer free to choose to do something or not do it, You'll see people, on 35-degree days in a rainy, snowy wind-driven mix, jogging in their Spandex. They're as addicted as any smoker.
For many of us the substance or process of choice served us very well as anesthetic. It numbed the pain. Many of us would say that we don't even like the taste of the stuff. We just wanted relief. The problem was, while it numbed the pain it did nothing to solve the underlying problem. It only made it worse - I, a dysthymic, used alcohol, a depressant, and expected that depressant to help with depression?
Don't expect sense or logic from us.
I don't know if the term is still in common use, but mental health professionals have used the term dual diagnosis to describe this - a person who is an addict and who has some other mental disease. For me, once we identified the underlying disease, I began to be able to address the drinking, too.
And, only at that point was I able to base my faith on something real. More properly, on Someone who became more real to me than I ever was to myself.
For those caught up in this process as well as for the families of such folks, my heart is with you. You may convince yourself you're not worthwhile. You are, most certainly to me. God bless, and please feel free to contact me, if you think it may help.
As always, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for hanging out with me!
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