Crazy?

In the most recent tragedy down in South Carolina (and isn't sad  we have to qualify it?), there has (again) been finger-pointing at mental illness as the central issue. Yes, of  course, he was crazy, or (to paraphrase Lewis Carroll),  he wouldn't have done it. But there is a problem with such an obvious observation.

• First of all, ascribing this tragedy just to mental illness paints anyone with any sort of psychological problem with the same stigma. When it is pointed out that one out of every four people has to deal with some form of emotional issue, and that covers everything from depression to psychosis, we get a different and less scary perspective. Actually,  very few seriously mentally ill people are any risk to others. To themselves, perhaps. but they can be so scared of others they would avoid any contact sooner than seek them out to harm them.
• Second, this speaks far more to our own fears than it does to anything to do with those who struggle with mental illness. We see stories of phobias, delusions, loss of contact with reality (the vast minority in the field), and we worry that we might have something like this happen to us. We have a bad day, or even a  bad year, and we feel as though we are going crazy, so someone like Dylann Storm Roof becomes a shadow we desperately want to pretend isn't there.
• Most important, the people who suddenly want to focus on mental health are more probably looking for an issue to distract us from looking at the self-evident causes for such tragedies. Racism. Guns. System-wide inequality. (Feel free to add anything I've overlooked.) I do not mean that mental health is not an important issue, nor to pretend someone like Mr. Roof isn't mentally disturbed. But when we focus on that one thing as the only motive, we tend to ignore the broader issues.

It would be a wonderful world if we could act from our rational selves. We were all created in God's image. We've just forgotten that. And in our frantic attempts to recapture what we have lost, we fall into a self-centered view of the world, where we resent others for not doing and being what we want. them to do or be, So when we come up against anyone whose skin is a different color from ours, or who speaks a language we are not familiar with, or whose culture is not in sync with ours, we are so frightened by this threat to our world-view that we  feel a need to eliminate it.And that, my friends, is my suggestion as to the root of the problem.

Forgive and forget?

"So I should pick and chose whom I should forgive?" she asked. It was another turn in what had been a complicated and difficult interchange between us. She has her own reasons for holding high the banner of forgiveness (which, after all, is an essential and central part of Christianity.) And she was asking (actually, I am paraphrasing her words) an important question: do we not follow a faith where unconditional and immediate forgiveness is expected of us?
The problem arises not in forgiveness, as tricky as that might be in itself. It is what we should do next, after forgiving. We  can note that, whenever Jesus forgave, He always did so in context: go, but don't do it again. You got into this because you didn't know. Make reparations to those you have hurt. Get yourself back on a better spiritual path. In other words, Jesus put a sort of price tag on forgiveness: personal accountability
There wasn't anything He  couldn't accept. The infamous "unforgivable sin" is commonly seen as one where the person saw no sin, did not see a need to be forgiven. He hung around sinners, tax collectors and other people frowned upon. In fact, He seemed to prefer their company.
But what  of us? There are those who repeat the same  dysfunctional patterns over and over and over. Yes, we are told to forgive "seventy times seven," a metaphoric number of that time for "infinite." But do we have something we cannot let go of? Many have wounds so deep they seem sure to never heal.
Saying we forgive in such situations may seem appropriate but not always realistic. To quote the Bard, "My prayers fly up, my thoughts remain below. Prayers without thoughts do not to heaven go." Or must forgiving and forgetting go together? What if we claim forgiveness, but forgetting remains out of reach?
And what if the one we must forgive denies any such? Or has passed beyond any point where direct forgiveness is  moot?
Maybe we need to look differently at forgiveness? Maybe it need not be a way of absolving someone of what was done but a way of setting ourselves free? Too often forgiveness (as Jesus hinted in His Prayer) becomes a continuation of the same tug-of-war that that sin/trespass/debt was to begin with?  But if we are to let go, move on, stop this spiritual power struggle, then we need to use words of forgiveness. "I forgive" becomes "I'm free of this."
And we must do as  much for ourselves as those who hurt us, Too often those who have been through a traumatic time will take on the responsibility, as though the abused child "asked for it," or the rape victim was dressed wrongly, or the soldier caught in a firefight should somehow have prevented it. True, we do have responsibility for much, but no one willingly steps in harm's way.
To answer the original question: yes, we choose when and whom to forgive. Not that we are picking whom to forgive, but that we are choosing. Not some  automatic unconditional, universal forgiveness; that's God's job. But making a personal decision, one that we may revisit over and over.

Changes: Xenophobia

Changes: Xenophobia: Fear of the different. Fear of change. Fear of the Other. One of the earliest stages of human development is coming to terms with the reali...

Xenophobia

Fear of the different. Fear of change. Fear of the Other.
One of the earliest stages of human development is coming to terms with the reality that we are not the world. As part of the process  of building a better self, we accept the fact that there are things we cannot control, things we are not responsible for. Despite our earliest experience, the world does not rotate  around us. There are others in this world, and (Schopenhauer aside) we do not control this world, no matter how we might try.
The difficulty arises after we realize this in whatever subjective or objective fashion. In a  nutshell; how do we react to this new reality, with people, places and things that are Not Us. If we are secure enough in ourselves, we tolerate them, accept them, even celebrate them. (As the French would say in another context,  Vive la differance!) But if we have no such feeling of self-worth, we will view others as frightening, threatening, simply because they are not us. We may even fear them because we fear there is something of them in us, as there might be something of us in them.
Hence we have those who react to the Other not just with wariness (as if dealing with a strange and possibly vicious animal) but with anger and even hatred. Their solution: get rid of the different, remove anything which is not Us. For anything which we do not control is scary, threatening. And if the Other has any alluring aspects, the reaction is all the more so.
So if the skin is a different color, or the national origin is different, or the sexual orientation is not the same, we react as people of ages past reacted to those with certain illnesses: Outcast! Unclean! And even within such groupings, there have been some instances of reaction. Even people of color distinguish, even ethnic groups maintain pride in coming from their own separate ethnicity, even those of any given political or religious  belief may view diversity in their particular ran ks with mistrust or dismay.
When we were children, our parents went through the  common ordeal of getting us to eat something other than what we wanted. Granted, it didn't always work; for every instance of having to stop the child from devouring everything, there are too many instances  of adults that just won't eat peas! But we hold  back from any such attempts to learn from  the different, to know a world that is not Us.
Because only when we truly know the Other can we know ourselves.
"And this shall be the end of our exploring: We shall not cease from exploring, until we return to the place where we began, and know it for the first time." -T.S. Eliott

Swish

The worst hours of my life were supposed to be the most carefree, fun times. My father would come home from work, dig out the baseball and gloves and call to me, "C'mon! Let's toss a few!" And for an endless period of time, my father and I tried over and over to throw the ball and  catch the ball. Unsuccessfully on my part, need I add.
It did not help that my eyesight was rapidly deteriorating. At one awful stage, my parents were resigning themselves to my eventual complete loss of vision (an event that did not happen.) It also did not help that I was shy and bookish and prone to numerous illnesses.
The net result was a long aversion to sports. I was relieved when I was the last to be chosen for whatever team. I would stand in the outfield (why the outfield? I dunno.) daydreaming or dreading that someone might hit a ball my way. I would go to school sporting events convinced my school would  lose (and they usually did so!)
At various irregular intervals, I got involved in some esoteric sport such as karate or fencing. I was deeply committed at one point to hiking, if you take a broad definition of "sport."
But it was only when the physical became less possible for me due to increasing disability that I fell into my current fascination with sport, specifically baseball/ (Go Red Sox!) At the same time, I recognized how dysfunctional most sports can be.
This is not just about the inevitable physical wear and tear that is part of any sport. Not just boxing and football, but the damage that happens to any athlete, and that results in retirement from most sports by age 40 or so. This is also idealizing conflict as a form of entertainment and therefore acceptable as a way of dealing with differences even in most social settings. And we even go into the complicated ways in which sport is used as a pretext for making money (the big sports organizations as non-profits? really?)
But most of all, it has taken to recent years to address the homophobia implicit in many sports organizations. Not that there were no gay players! But as in society at large, we preferred not to see or acknowledge that these men and women  might be other than the Frank Merriwether stereotype of the wholesome straight-no, no, chaste! role models we sought.
So what does society do when it is faced with the eroding of the gay stereotype, with the image of manly/womanly members of the LBGTQ community? What do parents do when they have a son who has no interest in the traditional macho things? What do they do when a daughter shows no so-called "feminine" tendencies?
Some advice: don't take them out to the back yard to play a game of catch. Doesn't work.

Liberty or License?

Palm Sunday is God's way of reminding us what authority and responsibility are really all about. We have the mistaken idea that public acclaim, spectacle, the  facade of leadership is all that is necessary. In the same way that Jesus used all the traditional associations with a ruler entering into Jerusalem, we mistake fidelity to religious practices (something forever in flux) with a deep spiritual commitment. We see how deep and true the people's belief in this latest messiah by how quickly the cries went from "hosanna" to "crucify Him!"
And people's attitude toward faith is being shown, alas, in the current use of "religious liberty" as a way to show hatred against others. Apparently, some people (are you listening, Gov. Pence?) seem to feel that simply claiming any kind of faith is enough to justify discriminating against others. Well, not any faith; more specifically, conservative Christian. Jews, Muslims, Hindus, need not apply.
Actually, there are Muslim restaurants who refuse service to any woman not dressed according to their standards. But that's another issue.
The problem with all this is not that some of my brother and sister Christians are unclear on the concept. There have been limits on faith expressions in this country for years and years. Christian Scientists are required to provide medical care to their children. Jehovah's Witness go through a complicated series of maneuvers when they need a blood transfusion. And Mormons have been legally prohibited from polygamy.
We won't go into the complicated issue of faith healers.
Of course, much of this new idea of dressing up discrimination as "religious liberty" comes from a comparatively small group that don't want liberty for anyone but themselves. The fact that this is showing up in state after state smacks more of a concerted effort than a spontaneous movement. But still it is the same old behavior in certain faith communities that demand you follow their restrictive code or be penalized.
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the crowd cried "hossanna," which loosely translates as "save us." But Palm Sunday is not about salvation in any sense. That would only happen through love and resurrection, aka Easter. So when anyone claims they will save anything through hatred and discrimination, they obviously seek license, not liberty.

The value of a silent example

This is to my conservative  Christian brothers and sisters; please stop!
There was a time in my life when I was so sure of my faith that I had to, simply had to tell everyone about it. In the same way that someone who is newly in love is only  able to talk about the beloved (have I shown you the photos of my grand children?), Some believers feel compelled to tell others- at great length, in boring cliched sentences- about this incredible God they have found.
The amazing experience of a close relationship with the Ground of all being can be quite heady. And because some in that community have chosen to ally themselves, for reasons I can only guess at, with a particular political stance which, ironically, is quite antithetical to faith in general and Christianity in particular. (Are you listening, Ayn Rand?)
But the issue here is that the way our brothers and sisters are acting is driving people away from the community of faith. It is no coincidence that atheism as a mainstream phenomenon has been growing as conservative Christians have been more visible. If one's first  exposure to any kind of Christianity is the toxic forms most people see today, it is understandable that one might recoil from it.
Please understand: if someone chooses to show their faith in a particular way, so be it! I was there at one time, as I said. But, in some parts of the world,  missionaries are forbidden to talk about their faith unsolicited. Only their actions may speak. So, my conservative brethren, let your good acts speak of what you believe. Spare me from the Bible tracts and the televangelists and the demonstrations. As I said: just stop!
Show me this God of love you say you are following.

One Day at a Time

Today is all we've got. Yesterday is gone, and no matter how hard we try, we can't go back and change what happened. Tomorrow isn't here yet, and all our worrying and frantic preparations don't guarantee anything.
So live for right here and right now. Yes, we need is to be aware of where  we have been. Of  course, we should think ahead to where we hope to be. Those things may orient us, but they should not define us.
The problem lies in the way we live today. So many live lives that are dull, shallow, uneventful. The present for such holds nothing, so constant review and attempted revision of the past, or persistently seeking some presaging of what is to come, becomes more interesting than the humdrum of our daily routine.
There is a danger here, of course. Living in the now can become a way of avoiding responsibility for our lives, rather than taking the reins of life in our own hands. We must tackle all the things each day may hold, no more and no less. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." (Matthew 6:34)
And once you choose to live in the now, seek to live your life to the full. Remember, that's the only one you get, so live it to the full!

So sorry

Everyone has things they regret. (Well, maybe not everyone, but you know what I mean.) The words that shouldna been said. Things should/shouldna been done. From when we were all very young, and didn't know any better, but that didn't matter. (Tell you sometime about a very young me and my Aunt Claire.) So one of the first things we learn is saying we're sorry. Even forgiveness is given but not believed or forgiveness is not given or given conditionally, or... You know the story, don't you?
But lately, apologies and forgiveness have taken a new sphere. We have assumed a global form of cynicism. We hold all apologies as suspect automatically, and forgiveness is given too easily or not at all/
Now, granted, with many in the public/political arena, the practice is to speak/act first, apologize after. It is akin to the courtroom practice of asking the witness a question that will be objected to, but the very act of asking it will hopefully bring up a forbidden subject. The idea is: I will say this or that, and the audience I am aiming at will hear only that and pay no attention to the apology.
This has contaminated the very concept of sincere repentance, much less forgiveness. Even though we Christians are supposed to pray regularly that we forgive and are forgiven, we seem to have difficulty receiving, much less giving. And the category of the unforgivable has become broader and broader.
The deeper problem is that we are unwilling to accept others. We cannot forgive because we do not want to open ourselves to others. Or we may be overly aware of our own flaws and failures so that we expect them in others/fear others will know them in us.
It is sad but true that we do not trust others now. There are people who can be bad, but we tend to go beyond that to include people we disagree with politically, spiritually, geographically, even what baseball team you root for. (Uh, go Red Sox?) Yet there are people I love that I disagree with about some or all of the above.
There was a time in my life when I hurt some of the people I love. (Story for 'nother time.) And I apologized. Boy, did I apologize. Over and over. Finally, a person I loved and had hurt told me: stop. The very act of repetitive contrition was having the opposite effect from what I intended. The point is we need  forgiveness but we also should forgive ourselves. And we should forgive others, not worrying if they accept our forgiveness. (Or even feel they need it.) The whole point is letting go.