FROM POETRY WINNERS TO MIRACLES

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Poetry book competition winners, mostly. Mary Biddinger, Prairie Fever (Steel Toe); Chuck Carlisle, A Broken Escalator Still Isn’t the Stairs (Concrete Wolf); Mark Conway, Any Holy City (Silverfish); Becky Gould Gibson, Need-Fire (Bright Hill); Michelle Gillett, The Green Cottage (Ledge); Noah Eli Gordon, Acoustic Experience (Pavement Saw); Jason Irwin, Watering the Dead (Pavement Saw); Joshua Kryah, Glean (Nightboat); Rachael Lyon, The Normal Heart and How It Works (White Eagle Coffee Store); Dawn Lundy Martin, Discipline (Nightboat); Rusty Morrison, The True Keeps Calm Biding Its Story (Ahsanta); Heather Aimee O’Neill, Memory Future (Gold Line); Simon Ortiz, From Sand Creek (Arizona); Pitt Poetry Series, New and Selected 2012; Liz Robbins, Play Button (Cider Press Review); Jonathan Thirkield, The Waker’s Corridor (Louisiana State); Cider Press Review, Vol. 12; Slipstream, No. 31.  By and large, how dreadful – even meaningless or worse, false – I find these hermetic works of creative writing MFAs, often incestuously selected by associate professors of creative writing or literature. Far from finding anything I might wish I had written, I’m instead left grasping at straws for anything I might even admire – even a single line or stanza seems elusive. On top of it, the pervasive anti-Christian invective in many seems to amplify the shallowness of much of any thought running through these – often, there’s only a vague link to the title. And all of these similes!  Admittedly, many of these are gorgeously produced – their covers, especially. So what I’m keeping, this round: Need-Fire, with its impeccable scholarship of early Christianity in England and its lovely reconstruction of early English verse; Glean, with its lacy evocations. Ortiz remains in a class by himself.
  • Albert Goldbarth: Heaven and Earth. Wonderful collection (poems).
  • Poetry, December 2011-April 2012. Catching up! Some good work by Dan Beachy-Quick, Dick Allen, and Linda Kunhardt (December), varied responses to prayer and faith (“One Whole Voice,” February), Marina Tsvetaeva plus Kabbalah-influenced work (March).
  • American Poetry Review, March-April 2012. No keepers, apart from an essay on metaphor.
  • George Fox: Book of Miracles. A reconstruction of pastoral work by Fox, with extensive introduction looking at the expectation of miracles and providences at the time.
  • Evelyn Underhill: Abba. A close gloss on the Lord’s Prayer and its radical implications.

100_6968

FROM A PAPER DOLL TO BALLS

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Robert B. Parker: Paper Doll. By quoting Emerson and placing the scene of the crime “right in Louisburg Square” in Boston’s Beacon Hill, both on Page 2, Parker had my full attention. A delightful read, and fast – despite my usual distaste for genre writing of any kind. A fine tonic after Moore’s laborious scaffolding, especially.
  • James P. Carse: The Religious Case Against Belief. A perplexing argument that belief relates to belief systems that actually inhibit the sense of wonder that is at the heart of religion. He sees religion more as long-term culture, each one filled with varied and evolving responses. In addition, open-ended poetry is at the heart of religion, unlike belief, which has answers even before any question is raised. His discussion on Page 65 leads me to the Forbidden Fruit as the first law. The freedom to violate it leads us to trial-and-error knowledge. Without that opening, we would have a static – rather than dynamic – state of existence. The New Adam, in effect, would be returned to a state of wonder and awe, rather than a confining “belief system.” The full freedom of relationship, in other words, rather than subservience.
  • Michael Ray Taylor: Cave Passages: Roaming the Underground Wilderness. An obvious companion to The Mole People and my Southern Indiana experiences. Makes me realize that no matter how fascinated I am by karst formations perceived from above ground, I have no desire for the cold, clammy, and downright wet – and often claustrophobic, jagged, and muddy – conditions underground.
  • Wilmer A. Cooper: Growing Up Plain: The Journey of a Public Friend. Rooted in places and people I’ve known, this account provides a candid dimension of the difficulties placed upon children growing up in Ohio Wilburite families in the years when the one-room schoolhouses were being closed down. A good counterpoint to the rosier versions told by William Taber. One bonus is in the appendices, which include John Brady’s history and two OYM Disciplines.
  • Stephen D. Edington: The Beat Face of God: The Beat Generation Writers as Spirit Guides. Here a Unitarian minister in Nashua really stretches to make his all-too-shallow case. Not only does he repeat himself, but he seems to be ignorant of many key incidents in the lives of these players. Apart from Snyder and Whalen, and perhaps activists like Ferlinghetti, hedonism could be seen to be the operating principle, rather than religious quest.
  • Lester C. Thurow: The Zero Sum Society. Another critique of conventional economics, this one was first published in 1980, which leaves it in a curious situation. Since it is addressed to a series of political stalemates preventing long-term economic reform, much of his analysis feels dated, especially the concerns about inflation or income security. (These days, we’re looking at the possibility of real deflation and negotiated pay cuts.) On the other hand, the failure to solve these problems back then have led us, in part, into the disastrous situation the Obama Administration is now facing. He sees energy reform as the central problem. Thurow’s argument, of course, is the question of which segment of society will most bear the brunt (and the economic costs) of any change.
  • Richard Adams: Watership Down. The British rabbit novel I was supposed to read my senior year of college. So rabbits talk? And one of their favorite sayings is that a cloud doesn’t like to be alone? Disturbing.
  • Patricia Foster, ed.:  Minding the Body: Women Writers on Body and Soul. In contrast to Minding the Light, this collection puts the focus on the corporeal – perhaps quite fitting for someone recovering from surgery! Actually, a remarkable collection. I can’t imagine men writing about our bodies and our varied struggles with them – including issues of being overweight or skinny, illness (especially cancer), or aging.
  • Nanci Kincaid: Balls. A fast-moving 396-page novel from the viewpoint of the women in the shadows of football, especially Dixie, who becomes the wife of Mac, the central coach in the story. Humorous and quite disturbing as it looks at the disintegration of marriage and the male obsession with success.

100_6812

FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE OBAMA ERA TO ETHICS

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Vanity Fair, March 2009. The annual Hollywood issue is supplemented with “The Obama Era Begins” – and “Historic Portraits of Washington’s New Establishment” by Annie Leibowitz.
  • Money, Special Report: Rescue Your Retirement. Too little, too late. They’re talking about people who make hundreds of thousands a year – and can put like sums aside.
  • Terry Eagleton: After Theory. I’m not quite sure what to make of this one, an office freebie. I was expecting something related to literary theory, rather than an attack on “cultural theory” and “postmodernism.” Still, working from a Marxist perspective, he crosses over into theological and philosophical issues, so it fits into that stream of thought in this mini-sabbatical.
  • Jonathan B. Tucker: Scourge: The Once and Future Threat of Smallpox. Jonathan, of course, stayed with us for a week of the Obama primary campaign. Very well written, especially considering its technical nature.
  • Carlos Baker: Emerson Among the Eccentrics: A Group Portrait. Jessica’s copy, at her insistence. A good follow to Ives’ admiration. Am especially intrigued by what might have developed had Emerson linked his sense of overarching Reason with Logos and then Christ, rather than simply a universal goodness that instead evolved (the Unitarian evolution).

Curious bits with local twists for me: Father Samuel Moody, Emerson’s great-great-grandfather, famous preacher of Mount Agamenticus, Maine.

The Wesleyan Academy at Newmarket NH.

Indian name for Mount Washington was Agiocochook, as used by Thoreau.

“The God who made New Hampshire / Taunted the lofty land with little men” – Thoreau, “Ode Inscribed to W.H. Channing.”

The Old Man, the Great Stone Face, “that grave old Sphinx” (Thoreau).

Emerson: “I acknowledge (with surprise that I could never forget) the debt of myself and my brothers to that old religion which in those years, still dwelt like a Sabbath peace in the country population of New England, which taught privation, self-denial, and sorrow.” (on the death of Dr. Ezra Ripley)

Passenger rail service to Concord, Mass., began June 17, 1844.

Emerson was irritated by Shaker “dunce-dance,” “with buildings ostentatiously neat,” as if entering a “hospital ward of invalids afflicted with priapism.”

“… our Concord River which is narrow and slow and shallow.”

Emerson had always shown a fondness for Maine, even including the snowbank near Berwick into which his sleigh-stage had inadvertently dumped its passengers back in 1842.

Department of Interior Secretary James Harlan, “a grim Iowa Methodist” according to Walt Whitman. (Harlans originally a Quaker family connected to my own ancestors.)

In 1852, John Albee, a 19-year-old senior at Phillips Andover Academy, came to Concord to interview Emerson and met a man whose name sounded like Thorough or Thurro. (Note the accented syllable, being the first.)

  • Samuel Butler: Erewhon. A satire of the assumptions of civilized society – especially Victorian England and its established church – as well as those of Utopian enterprises, this slow-moving narrative was an amusing read. Consider its Musical Bank (echoing both the Church of England and the chambers of high finance) or the College of Unreason as two examples. (Another of my college-era collection, this time passed on to Jessica.)
  •  G.E. Moore: Principia Ethica. “What is GOOD?” is the premise for this work from my college-assignment collection. We never discussed it, though, and I never took the ethics course. Perhaps inadvertently, the definition of the Highest Good works best in theological terms.

January3 027

TOURISM SLOGAN

This is New Hampshire, after all. So the tourism officials like to tout it as a place “to be free” to do this or that.

If they were really honest, they’d admit our skinflint ways and caution: “Don’t spend liberally.”

But we really do exist at the expense of our neighbors. This is New Hampshire, after all. For now, we’re all hoping for great skiing weather “up north,” with all of the economic consequences.

THE REAL HEALTH CARE DEBACLE

I keep hearing those folks gloating and pointing fingers over the troubles in rolling out what they deride as Obamacare, and I want to shout, “Where’s your health care plan – one that will provide basic coverage for the remaining two-fifths of the American public?”

There should be an embarrassing silence. Behind all their bluff, they have nothing, not even two aspirin and a glass of water. Just who would they have you phone in the morning, anyway?

They might say we can’t afford it, but that’s another way of saying our current system is outrageously overpriced and needs reform.

But then they say it’s just fine. (For them, maybe.)

But then they won’t even let us take a close look at another model, single-payer, like Canada’s. Thing is, every Canadian I’ve talked to loves it. And if it’s anything like the government-paid system my military surviving spouse mother-in-law has, my family would take it in a heartbeat.

The party-line critics of health care for all Americans have done everything they can to derail the rollout. They’ve kept a lot of the details up in the air and fought funding. No wonder there are screw-ups.

But remember this, it’s much better than anything they’ve offered.

We’re still waiting for their plan.  And waiting. And waiting.

Maybe they’ll look in the mirror in the meantime and see where the real problem is.

SLIDE SHOW MEMORIES

When I was growing up, my family would sometimes go over to another family’s house for dinner or a low-key party that was soon followed by their getting the projector and screen out, along with a brace of Kodak slides, to show us their summer travels.

In those days, we were somewhat awed. These were our friends who could afford the equipment and film and also manage to travel in some kind of style. In other words, it was an occasion, however boring.

These days, of course, photography is, oh, so much easier, and thanks to digital advances, oh, so much cheaper. And the slide show, as I’ve been finding as I blog, is both easier and, well, more intimate – you can watch it when and where you want. You don’t even have to yell out, “Can we back up two?” or “Who was that in the lower right-hand corner?”

Many families now have to figure out what to do with those increasingly fragile slips of film in their cardboard frames – especially the ones that now smell of mildew. They’re history, of course.

As is, it appears as I look around, the custom of families coming together with others.

THE STIGMA OF RELIGION

Intolerance, scorn, and judgmental stereotyping are hard enough to behold in public discourse, but they’re especially painful when they come from my side of the spectrum – people who proclaim themselves to be open-minded and smart. Yet the contempt is there, and nowhere more so than at the mention of religion, as Madeleine L’Engle has already pointedly observed. Even so, the fact remains that we do find individuals for whom belief and wisdom are not mutually exclusive. Indeed, even mutually enhancing. Let me suggest Bill Moyers’ Genesis: A Living Conversation, a Doubleday book based on the PBS series, as a demonstration of intelligence and faith in joint action. (Also available in audio or video, if you prefer.)

Admittedly, much of what we see and hear from the religious front can be superficial thought, convoluted logic, or emotional manipulation – quite simply, bad theology that too often goes unchallenged. (Not that we don’t encounter these in advertising, politics, entertainment, or professional athletics.) Curiously, when I listen to the reasons given by many who turn away from religion altogether, I often hear equally shallow arguments. Those who accuse religion of being the cause of all war, for example, blithely ignore Karl Marx’ insistence that it’s economic injustice instead – even as they invoke his axiom of religion as the opiate of the people. Or the way Sigmund Freud’s atheism is touted, while ignoring the degree to which his two key disciples, Karl Jung and Otto Rank, each turned to unique aspects of religion to advance their depth of human insight. I’m of the camp that contends that good theology is the only cure for bad theology, and is essential for progressing social justice. Rabbi Michael Lerner’s The Left Hand of God: Taking Back Our Country from the Religious Right offers a fine line of reasoning in this direction. (As for advertising, politics, entertainment, professional athletics …?)

And, yes, the best reply to hypocrisy comes from the discipline of faith itself. Whatever happened to corrective rebuke and redirection, within the faithful group? (What old Quakers used to call “close labor.”)

Oh, my, and here I’d started out to reflect on the unfortunate state of religious fiction and poetry in our time, especially from Christian writers. With little support from my side of the spectrum, what appears is typically constrained by an orthodoxy that inhibits candor and rigorous exploration, and what emerges sounds saccharine, hollow, or even a false note altogether. That’s before we get to that matter of being preachy.

Still, I can point to the growing popularity of Rumi, a Sufi mystic of the 13th century, or to Zen-influenced Americans or Jewish novelists and a few obliquely Christian poets as signs of hope.

Care to add to the list?

TRUE HOSPITALITY

The New Hampshire economy – like the rest of New England, actually – relies heavily on tourism. But to put a smiling face on the cash cow, businesses and public officials alike call it the hospitality industry.

Dictionaries, however, say nothing about making a profit on hospitality. In fact, one calls it “behaving in a kind and generous manner toward guests; fond of entertaining; affording or expressing generosity toward guests.” Generosity extended by the host, we should note, and not the guest.

But looking at the word afresh, I’m also seeing another industry arising: the hospital. As in hospitalization. Oh, my.

WHAT ARE THE DEEPER VALUES?

I like a faith that values questions. Especially the ones that elude easy answer. The ones that keep us on our toes. The ones that keep us digging.

What have you done today has much more meaning than one that asks what you believe.

Questions of where have you encountered the Holy One? … and where have you served? … are more fitting.

The matters of peace and joy and hope and justice and, well, it’s a long list – are meaningless unless we manifest them in our daily encounters. Like St. Paul’s insistence on praying without ceasing, it’s an impossible task, which is precisely the point. Keep trying! And maybe you find out it’s not just up to you alone, but the Holy One as well. Again, we return to relationship.

I began these reflections as a matter of yoga and the question of whether it’s religion. Are you letting go of yourself (and your tensions and anger and desires and …) as you exercise? In your meditation? In your service to others during the day? Are you sensing the presence of the Holy One throughout?

Are you aware of the obstacles and barriers that arise as well?

If you are, it’s religion.

As for teaching kids in a classroom, what’s wrong with that? Just don’t confine it to a box with labels and wrapping.

So now we’re down to the core conundrum in the separation of church and state issue. How do you live your faith without demanding others do it for you? Or, to a lesser extent, live it the way you would?

Inhale, stretch. Exhale, touch your toes. You still have to do it! Close your eyes, then, and feel what’s happening within.

JUST WHERE IS RELIGION IN AMERICAN LIFE?

Discussion over whether yoga is or isn’t a religion – and whether the physical exercises have any place in a public school curriculum – triggers another of my emotional hot buttons. This one has to do with the marginalization of religion – authentic religion, at least – from public consciousness.

I think we’re poorer as a consequence. If we can’t talk openly about our deepest experiences of life – birth, love, family, failures and successes, and especially death – and the ecstasy and despair that can accompany them, how are we to comprehend and direct our place in the wider world? In America, sex is no longer a taboo subject – just listen to the celebrity gossip, for starters – but don’t you dare talk about spiritual faith or ask someone their income and spending. (Never mind that I do address those matters in the Talking Money category at my blog Chicken Farmer I Still Love You.)

Let me point out that the kind of discussion I’m encouraging precludes dogmatic or doctrinaire pat answers. It’s based in direct experience, rather than speculation. It’s not a matter of arguing one’s correctness or trying to convert another, but rather to relate the personal struggle with the greatest questions and challenges of life.

What does it mean to do good? To love? To seek peace? To pursue justice? And how does your faith make you a better person or create a more just and humane society?

Bill Moyers’ Genesis: A Living Conversation series on PBS in the 1990s demonstrated how this could work, and led to some of the most profound discussions I’ve ever heard in the public arena.

Too often what I see in terms of religion in America is a kind of generic homogeneity. I much prefer those who see importance in what the Amish call the distinctives – the practices that set us apart and strengthen our particular awareness. We can’t all live like the Amish, but we can learn from them. We can learn from those who make room to pray seven times a day or who feed the homeless or observe a strict Sabbath.

Settling for the lowest common denominator in this case means settling on nothing at all. I much prefer celebrating the alternative.

I also prefer listening to those who are finding joy and lightness in their spiritual encounters rather than those who are laboring under guilt or gloom. I’ll let you go ahead and quote chapter and verse on that.

What I do know is that when there have been coworkers and others along the way who can tell me about their daily faith, and welcome my replies, we’ve both been encouraged and strengthened. It’s been a special bond unlike any other.

So, is yoga a religion? Well, first we need to be more specific! Just what do we mean by religion?