FEEL GOOD OR SIMPLY FALAFEL?

I can understand the temptation to sell religion as a matter of improving yourself, whether it’s self-esteem or self-worth or, well, treasures on Earth (the “name it and claim it” version of praying). Churches have by and large shifted from emphasizing damnation versus eternal salvation, and in sweetening the message, have also seen attendance plummet. Along the way, they’ve lost much of what makes them unique as faith communities, as well. Still, as I center down on Sunday morning into the silence of our worship, I hear all the traffic on the highway outside the meetinghouse and wonder just where everyone’s racing to. For many, I know, it’s the mall, as if that has anything they really desperately need that much one day of the week, much less life everlastingly.

I hear a similar message in many of the yoga enthusiasts, who preach the heightened self glories emerging from the practice, and once again, I sense something else is missing.

What it comes down to, essentially, is whether one’s being self-centered or selfless in one’s focus. The selfless version, I’ll argue, demands a faith community – a circle of kindred souls who are committed to helping one another along the way, including listening to their perceptions of our own efforts, pro and con.

The role of a teacher – whether a guru or a pastor or a minister or elder – is also important, as well as the circle of discipline that individual submits to.

The self-centered version, in contrast, needs no one else – or many just an audience.

As I ponder the nearly empty churches on Sunday morning – and other places of worship on Friday night or Saturday – I’m left wondering just what is being fed to the spiritually hungry or what invitation is being issued to the wider world. It’s not a matter of shaping our message to popular marketing, but of being true to an alternative way of living.

And, as I see it, that demands a circle of faith – not just a solitary individual. As Jesus said, where two or three are gathered. For starters. Or a bit of what I experienced living in the ashram.

Let me add, it’s anything but easy. Far from it.

UNMASKING THE IDOLS?

I suppose most Americans think they have an understanding of what “religion” is. Their definition likely starts with a statement about believing in God, perhaps qualifying that in some context with Jesus or some other touchstone.

The matter of belief and practice, though, can be quite distinct – one doesn’t necessarily entail the other. Many claim to believe yet do nothing meaningful in response. Where’s the faith that redirects and transforms lives? Where’s the love and hope and joy?

Douglas Gwyn titled a 1989 volume Unmasking the Idols, and while the work was addressed to Quakers, I love his awareness of the importance of “unmasking the deep-seated problem of idolatry in our lives [as] necessarily our first task” in our spiritual lives.

Quite simply, it starts with us individually. But I also sense we as a nation need to identify all of the false religion that shapes our public policies and priorities. We could start with celebrities, professional athletics, consumerism, the workplace, corporate enterprise, military expenditures, personal success … well, you get the idea. We worship a lot of things – a lot of things we shouldn’t for our own long-range health.

For one thing, I want us to have other measures of worth than a dollar sign. (Or, in terms of organized religion, an IRS tax deduction.)

We can even look at stripping away the superstitions and customs that accompany our traditions.

The idols even appear when we’re objecting to what is perceived as religion in the public schools. I could, for example, point to the objections to anything mentioning Jesus in relation to Christmas, while substituting carols to witches for Halloween. (I’m with the fundamentalists on that one.) Or the ways we’ll bend in our claims of tolerance, but only in one direction.

Jesus was oh-so-right about that plank in our own eye!

Still, the question of exactly what defines religion is elusive. “Preparation for death” comes as close as anything I’ve heard, once I realized it’s really talking about preparation for life – whatever that mysterious state is – and then life more abundantly, as Jesus promises.

I would take it a step further. Not belief in a Holy One, but a daily, personal relationship. But how do you define that? And how do you keep it pure? Maybe we’re back to the exercises, one way or another.

NOW FOR SOME HEAT?

Each fall, we play a little game in our household. The goal is to see how long we can hold off before we begin using the furnace to heat the house. Yes, October and even September can be pretty chilly where we live, but since we have steam radiators, getting a right equilibrium for the furnace in the basement can be difficult – the boiler’s just getting going when it has to back off. Seems to waste a lot of fuel, from what we see, and that, in turn, wastes money.

So what we do is use the wood-fired stove in the kitchen to take the chill out of the house. The kitchen gets toasty warm, but enough heat percolates through the rest of the house to be tolerable. Someone, usually me, needs to get up in the middle of the night to reload the Jotul, but similar stories have been told throughout history. (When I worked the second shift, I could refill the stove when I got home from work and then sleep peacefully, knowing it would still be burning when my wife rose for the day.) We do use a couple of electric radiators, as needed, in rooms where we’re seated and working, but other than that, the goal is to get us to at least the first of November.

We’ve made it! But what’s this unseasonable heat wave? Highs near 70? In November?

Now, to see how much longer we can extend this. December? January? We’ve done it, at times. Did I mention it helps to dress warm?

ALL THE NEIGHBORS’ CATS

Our yard is claimed by the neighborhood cats. We have no idea where most of them live. The gray one prowls everything. “You’d think after five years here, they’d finally come up to me,” Rachel once said, and nothing’s changed.

The white-bibbed black cat often snoozes in our berm (the bank of shrubs and ivy between the sidewalk and Swamp), while the solid black one beside the catnip watches the bird feeder, and then there are Heifer Cat, Smoky, and Nimrod, who once caught a squirrel in our viewing. Who knows what their owners call them.

My favorite incident was watching a peregrine falcon raid the thistle feeder as I was showering. All the other birds fled in the commotion, but the fearless cat I named Spooky came marching forward, as a hawk. Everything happened so fast, what are you, kitty, really nuts? But the scene cleared without further incident. Hip-hip, for Spooky.

PRESIDENTIAL COLORS

Without any sense of being one of them, I’ve known people who claim to see auras around individuals. They have their own vocabulary regarding what each color means. And I’ve listened without agreeing or dissenting. It’s their experience, after all.

Still, I remember in the midst of one of New Hampshire’s first-in-the-nation presidential primaries when one of the hopefuls was moving through the office, along with his entourage. I couldn’t quite identify the face, but it was familiar. What struck me, intensely, though, the way he was surrounded by a black vapor.

And a black aura, as they said, was satanic.

Afterward, I realized it was Pat Robertson – the Reverend Pat Robertson.

I still feel a chill, recalling the incident, with no way of confirming how much is true or fallacious. But others have told me the same.

CHOOSING, IN THE END

As I said at the time, considering …

The matter of burn-outs, too. I have a long list, from those who’d been close. The ones who self-destructed at the brink of fame, largely through misplaced sexuality. One who achieved fame while still in high school, but then pursued a tangled life more than the fact. A common story, really. Perhaps the sex, like liquor, is the cover for much deeper wounds that need to be confronted and healed – but are instead allowed to fester.

We could also look at charisma in public figures, and how so often it comes by consuming in flames those who surround you. Witness Clinton and Lewinsky. (Which also raises questions about the kind of marriage the Clintons have agreed upon – obviously, not the usual white-picket fence variety but something far more Continental. Marriage blanc?)

Yes, there are reasons for fears. Actually, before I shift gears in a moment, I should recommend Camille Paglia’s controversial but seminal Sexual Personae: Art and Decadence From Nefertiti to Emily Dickinson, a great overview of art and literature and human sexuality in the course of Western Civilization. As she convincingly titles her chapter about Dickinson: “Amherst’s Madame de Sade.”

Then there’s the whole realm of intrigue about fetishes themselves – and even whether they remain more powerful left in the imagination than in reality. Columnist Bob Greene toured the Playboy Mansion before it was torn down and was disheartened to discover how small and dingy the indoor swimming pool was compared to all the photo layouts he had worshipped in his adolescence. Maybe the potential of doing X, Y, or Z has more hold than no longer being able to do the tattoo differently now that it’s there. Ditto so much else!

The paradox, actually, that choice doesn’t exist until you choose one – and rule out the others. Guess that comes into place here. You can believe in marriage in general, but in the end it’s going to be with a blonde, a brunette, or a redhead – or for her, possibly with a baldy. Go for them all, and you avoid going as deep into the experience, or so they say. From my experience, it gets tiring investing all the effort and time in what is essentially the early stages of a life journey – I’d much rather be much further along with a reliable companion. Hope this doesn’t sound moralizing, but I’ve been making the decision to move forward on some other fronts of my life the past few years rather than jumping into another relationship that pulls me away from my life’s direction. And, yes, there are many moments of weakness in that, when the loneliness can become paralyzing.

WASHINGTON, THE CITY

As I said at the time …

In the Northwest quadrant of the nation, they refer to it as “Dee Cee” just to keep from confusing it with its larger namesake. Not that that really helps, mind you. It’s more an expression of derision. After all, not even the wire services or television networks make that distinction. No, everywhere else it’s simply “Washington,” and let the Evergreen State go to hell.

But is that really fair? Of course not. The name of the place is District of Columbia, which is rather cumbersome. Georgetown has a nice ring to it, but unfortunately, it’s an old neighborhood that really should be its own city, for that matter; but the District tries to be a city-state in all the negative connotations of the concept.

Why, now, they’re even trying to become an independent state! The audacity!

Listen, now, if the residents of the nation’s capital want to be represented by congressmen, they can petition to do what’s fair. And that is to return to the State of Maryland what its people had so nobly ceded to the federal government way back when the Founding Fathers, in their great wisdom, decided to seat the nation’s capitol in a teeming swamp. Just look at a map and it’s obvious the portion in Maryland is neatly squared. Part of a diamond, actually. You can see how it would have squared on the Virginia side, if the bureaucrats hadn’t decided they didn’t need that land and gave it back, instead.

So the feds have already returned to Virginia what that commonwealth had thrown into the kitty. And look what they got as booty the Pentagon, Arlington National Cemetery, Dulles airport, and Wolf Trap.

Not only that, but let’s remember where loyalties have been placed. Remember how Virginia turned upon Washington, sent troops to destroy it so that was back in the Civil War.

Maryland, meanwhile, dutifully stood by the Union. Oh, I know, there were a few upstarts who sent their sons off to fight for the Confederacy, and, sure, the feds had to keep cannons trained on Baltimore City just in case. But by and large, Maryland stayed put. Isn’t it time for that debt to be paid?

So the nation gives the District of Columbia back to Maryland, which then picks up a larger congressional delegation. Maryland has been a much smaller state in numbers than it ought to be, considering its influence and geographical placement.

Oh, I know there are those who retort that we don’t want Washington, not with all of its poverty and related urban problems. Just think about what it will do to our welfare costs, for starters.

Well, wait a minute. What’s to keep us from taking the existing welfare kitty and just dividing it among more people? That seems generous enough to me, and besides, it won’t cost you and my a nickel more.

And as for the urban problems, why, people said the same thing about Baltimore before William Donald Schaefer and the Citizens (Sic) got their act together. No, this seems to be an ideal opportunity for the new governor to demonstrate what he really can do while nurturing even more political talent. Make him the Dean of American Urban Renaissance. And a hot governor, toj _  boot.

There are those who say the feds should keep an essential portion as the District of Columbia. Hey, I’m not against that. I mean, the folks in the White House ought to be able to figure out how to keep all those lawns mowed and the monuments polished  although after trying to locate books in the Library of Congress, which, as you all know, is hardly open these days, I begin to wonder.

My own preference would be to place all the greenery and white marble buildings in a National Park. You know, Foggy Bottom National Park. Or Capitol Hill National Park. Or the Federal Mall National Park. We all like National Parks a lot more than we do a District of Columbia, no?

But quibbling aside, the place needs a new name, if for no other reason than basic courtesy to the Evergreen State.

Now I’ve always been told that if you’re going to criticize, you ought to at least have a positive proposal up your sleeve. So here goes.

Columbia or even District of Columbia would be nice, except for that planned community of ponds and condos between Baltimore and the Potomac. So that possibility’s kaput.

William Donald Schaefer is a nice name. He was an exemplary mayor, before he went flaky as governor. What? You say it’s even longer than Washington, D.C.? Well, listen, not if you use the whole name for Washington, District of Columbia, it’s not. Besides, Americans have a penchant for shortening names, so next thing you know, it would be William, D.S., and that’s definitely shorter. And then William and finally Billy, and we all remember fondly what a relief he was to the White House.

But would a Republican administration allow that? Probably not.

So here it is: we rename the federal area national park or district George. That’s it. George. That Yuppie cluster of Georgetown can become Junior if it wants. We have more important matters at stake. George speaks with authority. It’s regal, too.

As for the Maryland part the real city we offer a complementary name. Something to honor the founding mothers, as well: Martha.

Now doesn’t Martha, Maryland, sound like a lovely place? I can’t think of anyplace that sounds more truly Americana.

I know it will create a few difficulties at the Washington Post, for starters. Which may be exactly why a Republican White House might buy into this proposal. Nobody’s going to be quoting the George and Martha, Washington, Maryland and Virginia Post any more. They might as the Federal Post, but we’ll see.

We’ll see.

SPEAKING OF TYRANNY

They warn of Big Government and of organized labor while they strive to strip the people’s powers in favor of Big Business. How conveniently they forget the wisdom of any balance of powers or the tyranny, especially, inherent in globalization as it’s emerging.

One World Government, they warn, while paving the way for One World Corporation. In effect, it’s all or none of us. Either way, it’s scary.

I learned to view political systems and society itself from the bottom-up. Jesus said something about it in Matthew chapters 5 through 7. Maybe it’s just a matter of viewing the bigger picture or remembering the promise of Jubilee (Leviticus 25). Ultimately, each of us equally responsible, and equally equipped, to work together. But there’s always a price to pay.