"Ryan. I am a Jewish boy. I don't know if I can be one of the Three Wise Men. Lightning might strike."
"Quiet, Seth. Or we'll miss the directions."
"Look, Ryan. Just because you have a crush on Rebecca does not mean I should be doing this."
"I don't have a crush on Rebecca. She's just a friend. And I'm helping her out. So -- PLEASE -- be QUIET."
Yep. There we were. Seth and I. At the First Berkeley Intercultural Holiday Festival. Where the Jewish kids enacted the Living Nativity Scene; the black kids lit the menorah, spun the dreidel, and cooked latkes; the Christian kids donned Kwanzaa attire; and the atheist kids read aloud from "The Collective Works Of Ted Cruz."
And -- yes -- a girl named Rebecca did have something to do with us being there. But, not because I had a crush on her. Okay. Maybe I had a little crush on her, but that really had nothing to do with it. Besides, she was dating one of the Oakland Raiders. And you just don't mess with that stuff, if you value your health.
This is the thing. We're both architecture majors -- Rebecca and I. And she's great -- really smart, creative, artsy, kind, compassionate, a free-thinker. And beautiful. Yes -- beautiful. And she came up with this idea of the Intercultural Holiday Festival. It's not really associated with the university, per se. But, a lot of the students wanted to participate. And Rebecca asked me if I would design the structure for the Nativity Scene. She wanted it to be a bit avant-garde. So, I designed a stable set into a hillside. And I fashioned it all out of biodegradable/organic/recyclable materials from the university's food service. There really wasn't straw available, of course. But you would be amazed at what you can do with cardboard boxes and a heavy-duty shredder.
Rebecca also asked if Sandy and Kirsten's new baby could play the infant Jesus. "Well, I guess so. Although, she is a girl," I told her.
"Like it matters, Atwood," Rebecca replied. "She's just a few months old. Nobody's gonna notice. And it's not like there's a whole lot of babies to choose from around here."
So, that's how Kirsten ended up showing my friend Sam how to hold a new baby. Sam was playing Joseph, and Rebecca had decided that it was about time to have a Nativity Scene in which Joseph holds the baby.
I know it all sounds a bit ridiculous, a bit disrespectful. As accepting as he is about all things Berkeley, even Sandy had his doubts. But, you know, it all came off beautifully. In spite of the initial chaos, the atmosphere ended up being quite peaceful. And everybody learned something -- about another culture, another faith, another way of looking at the world. And in viewing our differences, we also saw our similarities. We saw the things that bring us together. We realized that everybody has a heart-felt need to be heard, to be cared for, to be loved. We learned that respecting another's beliefs doesn't have to diminish our own -- whether in a family or in a country. Maybe if we respect another's sincere beliefs, that other will respect ours as well. And -- maybe -- that is a way to peace.
As I ate my latke and gazed upon Mary, who was bemusedly watching Joseph try to keep the swaddling clothes from slipping off of a fussy "Baby Jesus" -- sheltered as they were in a "cave" made of dozens upon dozens of industrial-sized egg containers, welded together by compost -- a real feeling of contentment filled me. Until -- UNTIL -- Seth's camel (courtesy of the San Francisco Zoo) decided it was time to gift us with some organic material of its own making.
So -- whistling "Jingle Bells" to myself -- I hustled off to get the shovel.
Happy Holidays!
Showing posts with label atheists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label atheists. Show all posts
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Pope Francis "The Upstart"
In my family, we have been talking a bit about the new Pope. He has been doing and saying some interesting things -- things that piss some people off, that make others happy, that mystify many. He seems to be going in some new directions. For example, he washed the feet of women when he was first elected, breaking with tradition. He spoke of how atheists can go to Heaven. He said that gay people must not be marginalized, and even seemed to accept the idea of gay men being ordained to the priesthood. And these things make a lot of folks wonder what he is up to.
This is what I think.
First of all, I don't think he is doing anything that is out-of-step with Church teaching, if you really read the Catechism (and the New Testament).
What I think he is doing is reminding us of the true spirit of Christianity, of how Christ actually behaved -- things that some in the Church seem to have forgotten. Why have they forgotten it? The last couple of Popes, who I also truly loved, saw a Church that had begun to lose a lot of its tradition -- in the liturgy, in religious orders, in moral and social teachings, for example. These Popes, of happy memory, reminded us of those things, which was very good. But, in so doing, a division started to creep into the Church, a division which had probably always been there, but which became exacerbated. What division? The division between the more conservative Catholics and the more liberal Catholics. It is almost like these two groups don't even accept each other as true Catholics; there is a lot of looking down the nose at one group by the other. My husband, for example, told me that he heard a rather conservative Catholic commentator describe people "who are in the pews, but not in the Church." EXCUSE ME??? If your fellow baptized Catholic is sitting next to you in the pews, and has not been excommunicated by the Pope, you really shouldn't be talking that way about him. Or her. And even if he/she is excommunicated, he/she is still a baptized Catholic. On the other side of the coin, I once told a more liberal Catholic that I really love the Latin Mass and she acted like I had said the "black mass." There has also been more and more talk about a "Culture War." There has been much feeling amongst Catholics who view themselves as following the right path that they cannot work with, socialize with, live in the same neighborhoods as, or even pleasantly get along with people of differing points of view or of different lifestyles, because they are afraid of compromising their faith. And because they feel uncomfortable around these different types of people.
I think Pope Francis sees these things. And he sees the way the Church blew it in regard to priestly abuse. And he sees the other ways in which the Church has made various groups of people -- like women and homosexuals -- feel marginalized. In short, he sees the many sins and shortcomings of the Church and its clergy and its people. And he is trying to lead us forward. If we look at his example, if we truly and prayerfully look at it, I believe that we can begin to heal the rifts in the Church, we can help people to see how Jesus truly does love and accept them right where they are, and we can end the Culture War. Because even though we need to have societal discussions about many issues, a "war" probably isn't the best way to go about things. It will just leave the "defeated" feeling rebellious and plotting their uprising, while the "victors" go about gloating and maybe even oppressing. Which is what victors in a war tend to do, albeit (perhaps) unintentionally.
Yes, I think Pope Francis, with God's help, can bring many good things about in the Church. He seems to have great faith, he seems to be a man of genuine humility, and -- last, but not least -- he is the first Pope in a long time that regular people can actually understand. ;-)
This is what I think.
First of all, I don't think he is doing anything that is out-of-step with Church teaching, if you really read the Catechism (and the New Testament).
What I think he is doing is reminding us of the true spirit of Christianity, of how Christ actually behaved -- things that some in the Church seem to have forgotten. Why have they forgotten it? The last couple of Popes, who I also truly loved, saw a Church that had begun to lose a lot of its tradition -- in the liturgy, in religious orders, in moral and social teachings, for example. These Popes, of happy memory, reminded us of those things, which was very good. But, in so doing, a division started to creep into the Church, a division which had probably always been there, but which became exacerbated. What division? The division between the more conservative Catholics and the more liberal Catholics. It is almost like these two groups don't even accept each other as true Catholics; there is a lot of looking down the nose at one group by the other. My husband, for example, told me that he heard a rather conservative Catholic commentator describe people "who are in the pews, but not in the Church." EXCUSE ME??? If your fellow baptized Catholic is sitting next to you in the pews, and has not been excommunicated by the Pope, you really shouldn't be talking that way about him. Or her. And even if he/she is excommunicated, he/she is still a baptized Catholic. On the other side of the coin, I once told a more liberal Catholic that I really love the Latin Mass and she acted like I had said the "black mass." There has also been more and more talk about a "Culture War." There has been much feeling amongst Catholics who view themselves as following the right path that they cannot work with, socialize with, live in the same neighborhoods as, or even pleasantly get along with people of differing points of view or of different lifestyles, because they are afraid of compromising their faith. And because they feel uncomfortable around these different types of people.
I think Pope Francis sees these things. And he sees the way the Church blew it in regard to priestly abuse. And he sees the other ways in which the Church has made various groups of people -- like women and homosexuals -- feel marginalized. In short, he sees the many sins and shortcomings of the Church and its clergy and its people. And he is trying to lead us forward. If we look at his example, if we truly and prayerfully look at it, I believe that we can begin to heal the rifts in the Church, we can help people to see how Jesus truly does love and accept them right where they are, and we can end the Culture War. Because even though we need to have societal discussions about many issues, a "war" probably isn't the best way to go about things. It will just leave the "defeated" feeling rebellious and plotting their uprising, while the "victors" go about gloating and maybe even oppressing. Which is what victors in a war tend to do, albeit (perhaps) unintentionally.
Yes, I think Pope Francis, with God's help, can bring many good things about in the Church. He seems to have great faith, he seems to be a man of genuine humility, and -- last, but not least -- he is the first Pope in a long time that regular people can actually understand. ;-)
Saturday, July 13, 2013
The Pope And The Atheists
I read with great interest that Pope Francis spoke recently about the relationship of Christianity with atheists, stating (in a nutshell) that atheists could certainly be saved. How? By their good works.
Did this surprise me? No. It is what I have always been taught.
Did it surprise a lot of people? Yes.
If you think about it Biblically, though, it is logical. Read the story of the Good Samaritan, if you don't believe me. Jesus was basically giving a smack-down to all the self-righteous "religious" people.
A lot of atheists, though, appeared to be offended by the Pope's remarks. Perhaps it felt to them as though the Catholic Church was commenting on their beliefs and lives in a manner that was both uninvited and unwanted. I can understand this. It's probably sort of like when I heard that Mormons baptize people without said people being present and without the consent of those people. I wouldn't want that. And maybe the atheists resent us Catholics trying to "save" them. Maybe they view it as an insult to their own intelligence, free-will, and world-view.
There may be another thing going on here, though. And it is something that should cause us Catholics and other types of Christians to do some reflecting. Are we behaving in such a way so as to cause atheists to say, "Why in the name of God, who I don't believe in anyway, would I want to spend an eternity in a place locked up with you prideful, judgmental, mean-spirited, unaccepting people?" They are probably imagining themselves stuck at a banquet table, eternally flanked by the likes of Jerry Falwell and Rick Perry. Not something that is especially appealing to me, either. Maybe we should ask ourselves if we are building bridges to God, and not obstacles (another thing Pope Francis spoke about recently). Are we really practicing the attitudes of meekness, gentleness, and loving-kindness that should be expected of Christians of all stripes? Or are we being like the proverbial clanging gongs and clashing cymbals?
There is a wonderful older priest at our parish who told the following story:
He said that, many years ago, he was approached by a young man. This young man was a Communist and an atheist. The priest said that he asked to see the Communist Party card that the young man was carrying, as he had never seen one before and it interested him. He spoke to the young man a bit and found out that he had been raised in a very "fire and brimstone" preaching household. The young man was raised with the idea of a God who is very harsh, very cold, very unaccepting -- ready, waiting, and almost eager to cast people into hell. The priest listened to the young man's story and then replied, "If that is what I thought God was supposed to be like, I wouldn't believe in Him, either."
A story worth reflecting on, eh?
Now, did the young man in this story get all converted and everything? No. And that is not even what that priest was after. All he was trying to do was convey to this young person the merciful face of God, as we Christians are supposed to see Him. After all, the women loved Jesus. THEY LOVED HIM. And that tells you something about the guy. Think about that, Governor Perry.
Did this surprise me? No. It is what I have always been taught.
Did it surprise a lot of people? Yes.
If you think about it Biblically, though, it is logical. Read the story of the Good Samaritan, if you don't believe me. Jesus was basically giving a smack-down to all the self-righteous "religious" people.
A lot of atheists, though, appeared to be offended by the Pope's remarks. Perhaps it felt to them as though the Catholic Church was commenting on their beliefs and lives in a manner that was both uninvited and unwanted. I can understand this. It's probably sort of like when I heard that Mormons baptize people without said people being present and without the consent of those people. I wouldn't want that. And maybe the atheists resent us Catholics trying to "save" them. Maybe they view it as an insult to their own intelligence, free-will, and world-view.
There may be another thing going on here, though. And it is something that should cause us Catholics and other types of Christians to do some reflecting. Are we behaving in such a way so as to cause atheists to say, "Why in the name of God, who I don't believe in anyway, would I want to spend an eternity in a place locked up with you prideful, judgmental, mean-spirited, unaccepting people?" They are probably imagining themselves stuck at a banquet table, eternally flanked by the likes of Jerry Falwell and Rick Perry. Not something that is especially appealing to me, either. Maybe we should ask ourselves if we are building bridges to God, and not obstacles (another thing Pope Francis spoke about recently). Are we really practicing the attitudes of meekness, gentleness, and loving-kindness that should be expected of Christians of all stripes? Or are we being like the proverbial clanging gongs and clashing cymbals?
There is a wonderful older priest at our parish who told the following story:
He said that, many years ago, he was approached by a young man. This young man was a Communist and an atheist. The priest said that he asked to see the Communist Party card that the young man was carrying, as he had never seen one before and it interested him. He spoke to the young man a bit and found out that he had been raised in a very "fire and brimstone" preaching household. The young man was raised with the idea of a God who is very harsh, very cold, very unaccepting -- ready, waiting, and almost eager to cast people into hell. The priest listened to the young man's story and then replied, "If that is what I thought God was supposed to be like, I wouldn't believe in Him, either."
A story worth reflecting on, eh?
Now, did the young man in this story get all converted and everything? No. And that is not even what that priest was after. All he was trying to do was convey to this young person the merciful face of God, as we Christians are supposed to see Him. After all, the women loved Jesus. THEY LOVED HIM. And that tells you something about the guy. Think about that, Governor Perry.
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