The Qur'an Sampled

Having been interested in, studied and been captivated by Islam for many years, I have noticed over the years that recitations of the Qur'an can be found in the least expected places within popular entertainment media. Though these are only a few examples, I'm sure there are more.

I remember hearing "Allahu Akbar" on Danny Tenaglia's Back to Mine mix and was astounded. Not only is the recitation itself powerful but the way it was sampled to the beat made it, dare I say, kind of funky.



As I continue to search out new music, I stumbled across My Life in the Bush of Ghosts by Brian Eno and David Brynes, a rather remarkable album in its own right, containing various samples interlaced throughout. One song, in particular, is called "The Qur'an". It met with protest upon its original release and was removed from future releases of the album. Religion holds a fascination even amongst those who view it from the lens of historical or cultural interest alone. But it is difficult to deny the power therein.



This is an example as found in the film Powaqqatsi, part of the 'Qatsi trilogy by Godfrey Reggio and Philip Glass, films that are required viewing.



Perhaps one of these days I'll get around to unveiling samples from Christian preachers laced throughout similar music (as found on the song "Jezebel Spirit" on Bush of Ghosts).

Cinema as Scripture

Have you ever been in a situation or in a conversation with someone and can't quite find words to express what you feel or mean and are reminded from a scene from a movie that nails the scenario? That is what Scripture does for People of the Book. It is foundational, a continual frame of reference. The setting may not be "up to date" but the settings are, to a very large degree, timeless. As such they serve as perpetual reference points.

For those who don't relate to Scripture in this fashion, film, or books, or music, often serve this very purpose. They are, in effect, Scripture, a common language. For those who follow, for example, the Bible, there are times when a story from the Bible can be shared amongst a group from many different backgrounds and yet that story speaks a common language among them all. It is the "base" language.

A movie can provide the same, though perhaps to a narrower audience. But to that audience, it is a common language. There are feelings and emotions and ideas tied up in a movie that can be conveyed just be telling a story from the film.

At my job I had a position in "the office" which meant I had moved "up" from working on the floor. I don't care so much about position and title; I care about learning and experience. So it was an opportunity for growth. When the economy shifted, I was moved back "down" to the floor running presses again. I don't mind the work but it's hard to go backwards. But, as with all things, I looked at it as an opportunity to learn, to see how all the theories and ideas from "up" in the office actually worked "down" on the floor. It has been an eye opener, revealing the occasional dichotomy between ideal and reality.

But, there are days, long days, when it seems like eternity, like a door has been closed for good and fate is sealed. One of the jobs I was put on was running a drill press to ream a larger hole in a part (which ends up on a Harley...kind of cool, I suppose, that one of our parts ends up on such a high profile location). Part after part after part. Put part in fixture, pull down drill bit, bore hole, raise bit, put part in fixture, etc. After several hours of that, well, you get the picture...

So I was reminded of a particular "scripture" from the film Drugstore Cowboy when the character played by Matt Dillon, now in recovery, is working. His prospects, post-recovery, are slim and, after the thrill ride of addiction, he finds himself working a drill press.



Cinema as Scripture?

Or by making such a comparison do we render The Book just another form of human expression of common experience, not a revelation or opening up of the divine but merely an expression from within our shared humanity? Perhaps "film" bears similarity to the way in which we experience The Book in a faith community. After all, look at Star Wars and Star Trek conventions. People live the mythology of these films and frame a particular worldview around it.

Or is it a shortcut to communication? I mean, Animal House as Scripture?



Think about it. Haven't we all felt like this at some point? Trying to fit in, a social outcast, shoved aside because you don't have the pedigree?

Perhaps it is a substitute Scripture but it can function in a similar fashion, a frame of reference, a story which provides inspiration, strength and hope within which we can function in the world.

Why people dislike organized religion...

I am respectful of others' religious traditions but how do you not get upset watching this? Religious "tradition" interferes with life and ceases to have any real function. I mean I know we all have traditions that appear strange to others but do you live like this? Are these women really ok with it? Not even to eat? What do they really think?

Stripper stories...

Strippers make me uncomfortable. It's a lot more difficult to fantasize when flesh and blood is before your eyes. When sex objects are visible through the cold, impersonal interface of television, magazines or the computer, it's easy to pretend. They aren't real. But when they are in front of you, flesh and blood, with families, daugthers and siblings of someone, with feelings and a family and dreams and desires, the impersonalization and compartmentalization of the same becomes much more difficult.

I do have stripper stories but, like most things I've done, the stories have a different perspective. Why do I bring this up? Who cares? Let's just say someone close to me was found to be stripping. Maybe not naked stripping but leaving little enough to the imagination that it may as well have been. Don't know that money was exchanged so technically perhaps it wasn't really stripping. What is the distinction between a lingerie party at a club and stripping at a club? Anyone?

Anyhow, it conjured up a few stripper stories. Life is, after all, the stories we can tell isn't it?

The first time I ever saw a woman strip live before my eyes was as a freshman at the University of Cincinnati. Not sure how I hooked up with the guys I hooked up with but we road tripped to Dayton to see the Beastie Boys in concert on their Licensed to Ill tour with Fishbone and Murphy's Law. We stopped at a seedy little adult book/video store before the show. The booths where you continually pop in a quarter to keep the video going frazzled me after about one dollar so I wandered back to the "live" show.

It took me a minute or so to figure out that you had to keep putting money in for the blind to go up to see the girl dancing. It was a strange experience. I felt sad for her. She was not very attractive and looked bored, beaten down even. I learned quickly that if you put more money in she would come right up to your little window and show you, well, everything...in up close detail. I wasn't quite ready for that and was quite suprised to see, right in front of me, behind the veil of the window, an explicit presentation in female anatomy. It left me feeling even more sad.

The next time I was in the presence of strippers was visiting a friend in Lexington, Kentucky and we ventured off to a "gentleman's club". What the hell is that anyhow? All I remembe was that it was dark in the club with the stage the dominant feature in the club. I vaguely remember the girls (isn't that always the case?) but do remember watching one girl in particular. She came over to our table after dancing. I was the one who ended up talking to her.

She proceeded to tell me about being in nursing school with two children she was raising and she was stripping for the money. Maybe it was just a story I don't know but I believed her. We talked for a brief period of time and she seemed like a really nice girl. When she got ready to go back up on stage she told me she would do a special dance for me. It's quite possible, maybe even likely, that talking to customers is part of the gig as a way of making more money. I didn't know any of that but could now no longer watch her because I knew her as a person.

In the later years of college, one of my roommates had a girlfriend who stripped. He asked a group of us to come up and watch her dance. I told him that was weird but we went anyhow. This time I was a bit closer to the action and, though not a fully nude strip club, was rather disturbed by strange men putting money in what little clothing she had on. Intriguing as this was, I still couldn't watch her dance.

My final reminisce was a strip club in The Flats in Cleveland, Ohio where a group of us were participating in a bachelor party. We were in a club, a large stage in the center and a group of men standing around, cheering, yelling, throwing money on the stage with an MC egging the crowd on. As I get closer I noticed two fully naked women writhing around on the stage, oiled up, wrestling. It was almost surreal. Someone threw some suckers on the floor and within a few moments both of these suckers were put to their intended purpose, each woman inserting the sucker into a place I never imagined a sucker being inserted and, upon removal, licking the suckers.

The guys in the room went crazy. Watching on film is one thing. Somehow it is pretend, distant, fantastic, relatively easy to turn off. Here it was live in my face and rather than being turned on I was horrified. There was no distance. To hear the MC begging for more money to be thrown on stage, for the women to be wiggling around on stage like that in front of a bunch of strange, and rather barbaric, men was more than I cared to see. The whole scene just left me scarred for the human condition and the things we do to one another in the name of entertainment. It was the last time I went to a strip club.

Prude? Nah. Afraid? Maybe. Naive? Sure. But really just a little too sensitive. Even then, in the midst of various addictions, there was a heart of compassion. I didn't fully understand it at the time but I understand how women and men, lonely women and men, get sucked into this world. It is a world of fantasy but it's only as real as the dollars you wield and is ultimately empty.

Reminds me of a Moby song, one of his best:

I had to close down everything
I had to close down my mind
Too many things to cover me
Too much can make me blind
I've seen so much in so many places
So many heartaches, so many faces
So many dirty things
You couldn't believe

My wife will tell you that if I were to ever get busted picking up a prostitute it would not be to have sex with her but to talk to her, even take her out to eat, not as a date, but in an effort to somehow help. Though I did come to know a few prostitutes while working with the homeless in Youngstown, I have no prostitute stories.

Seattle 1994 Baraka and the World of Illusion

I am listening to the soundtrack for the film Baraka as ripped from the DVD (seems this is heading for obsolence as the Blu-Ray is said to be astonishing...).

In 1994 I was living in Seattle, having found myself there after several months on the road after quitting a "real" job and hitting the road (fueled by confusion, madness and drug use...). It was quite an experience.

One of the memorable moments in the drug-fueled period of my life was the opportunity to see the film Baraka in all it glory on the big screen. I doubt it was in the original 70 mm Todd-AO format though it may have been. All I know is that I was stoned when I went to see it and was mesmerized. In the midst of a spiritual crisis/catharis, the subject matter of the film was right on point. It was where I was at the time; it was also where I wanted to be. I sat in a stupor for about an hour and a half as I asborbed the images and sounds of the film. If you've never see it, you must see it at least once.

One of the pivotal moments, at the height of my buzz no less, was a scene in a trash dump in India where people are rummaging through the trash while Dead Can Dance's "Host of Seraphim" is playing. I was frozen in time. Never had I been so moved during a film; never had I felt a song so powerfully. It was, for that moment, transcendent. Even now as I listen to the song, it takes me there, a perfect memory capsule of a moment frozen in song.

Now, fifteen years later and a bit more worldly wise, I have found that many of the images in the film are based in settings that would be considered the tourist variety and the film itself is structured to "sell" a point. Though profound and moving it is now fairly obvious. Perhaps maturity and experience has shattered the illusion but it doesn't take away from the original experience for which this was a pivotal moment. This is a risk as we age, that we condemn and become cynical about those things that profoundly altered our worldview. But this film educated me and was instrumental in my desire to see the world in context.

One of the scenes which freaked me out at first was early in the film when a group of men, all seated, perform some kind of a dance in the jungle, all led by an older "shamanic" figure, eyes glazed over in a hypnotic trance, arms in unison as the bodies sway back and forth to the rhythm of the chant. A striking visual.

Years later I would learn that this is a staged performance called Kecak, or Ramayana Monkey Chant, a musical drama performed in Bali that celebrates an ancient Sanskrit epic. While it has its roots in sanghyang, a trance-inducing exorcism dance, it has become a "Westernized" version of the original.

A German painter and musician, Walter Spies, became interested in it during the 1930s and transformed it into a performance piece. Spies worked with Wayan Limbak, a Balinese dancer, and Limbak popularized the dance by traveling throughout the world with Balinese performance groups. These travels helped to make the Kecak known throughout the world.

This transformation is an example of what James Clifford describes as part of the "modern art-culture system" in which, "the West or the central power adopts, transforms, and consumes non-Western or peripheral cultural elements, while making 'art' which was once embedded in the culture as a while, into a separate entity."

Here is a more telling photo:

Sounds familiar...

Americanization

To what extent is education exploitation? Too cynical? Is my desire to keep such cultural elements confined to their historical roots a sign of the same "spirit" of Westernization, an elitist version of creating an exotic "other" for voyeuristic purpose?

Speaking of exploitation, tourism and Sufism, this all reminds me of an article from Hakim Bey, one of my favorite anarchist writers, about Overcoming Tourism...

This film was my first exposure to the music of Dead Can Dance and I would, over time, absorb anything related to their music, discovering many artists on the legendary 4AD label. Even today, it is still some of my favorite music.

However, much of this had to do with the mystique I created around their music. I envisioned some mysterious, mystical, exotic group whose music was angelic, ethereal, transcendent. That wasn't the case but the music of Lisa Gerrard, vocalist for Dead Can Dance, is truly amazing. She is perhaps most known for her work in the film score for Gladiator. Like much of my early spirituality, I chose to believe in a myth of my own making, a self-idealized projection that led to living in a world of illusion I created.

Time, age and maturity can often dampen the original joy of an event but this film changed my worldview and instilled a deeper desire for exploring the religious life. With music from around the world buoyed by a score from Michael Stearn (a favorite of Hearts of Space), it's a gem. The music is incredible though I think the weed enhanced the music to an extent I haven't experienced since.

Actually, the last time I watched the film itself I was tripping on LSD and in one of the early scenes of a mountain, I saw the face of Jesus being molded, melting, out of the mountains, a liquid face morphing and changing but still clearly Jesus.

I don't expect you to see Jesus there but I did, plain as could be. It was a charcoal etched vision of him in Fritz Eichenberg or Gustav Dore style (no halo, though) but it was unmistakable. I wanted to stay in that moment forever. Sadly, the crew I was with wanted to trip to something else and ejected the video.

A soundbyte from this film can be found in Jonathan Lisle's incredible Original OS.0_2 mix on John Digweed's Bedrock label and if you watch closely you'll see stills of the film in The Matrix Reloaded when Neo speaks with The Architect.

It's amazing the things that frame our worldview. Because this film so impacted my life (and, obviously, the lives of others) it has become a way of framing my perception of the world and is thus instantly recognizable when placed in various cultural media, a signpost, common ground among a larger tribe, all on the same journey, like product placement (is that irony or cynicism?).

The CD version of the film was too short and left out a lot of the subtle musical gems from the film as was the case with both Koyaanisqatsi and Powaqqatsi. Certainly these will be on Blu-Ray soon. What a peculiar twist having paid $75 for a used VHS version of this movie off of ebay after it was pulled from the shelves of Blockbuster when it went out of print. I can't help but think that there is something ugly and sinister about the material product of media proliferation.

It looks as if an "upgrade" to the soundtrack to Koyaanisqatsi is forthcoming as well.

My wife and I saw Koyaanisqatsi performed live in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with Philip Glass leading his orchestra as part of an effort to fund the finishing touches on the third piece of the trilogy, Naqoyqatsi (or, as my wife calls it, quite prophetically, Not Quite Qatsi). Having heard this live with the film playing on a movie screen in the background was comparable to my viewing of Baraka, though I was sober this time.

Life without drugs and addictions. Being grateful. No regrets. Enjoying the now. To live without illusion. It really is possible.

WALSTIB...

What kind of a Christian?

That's a really tough question. I guess I am "supposed" to be a Christian of the Trintarian variety. To a degree I am though sometimes I feel as if I hold to this as an objective categorization to keep it separate from the "other" variations of the Christian, defined more by what it is not than by what it is, the apophaticism of the mystics.

I do see how it developed and the need for it. Something was necessary to give a cohesive structure to the Church in order for it to survive as it has for 2,000 years. Given what we have in the Bible - Father, Son, Spirit - and their workings throughout the New Testament writings, it is sensible that the Trinitarian doctrine developed. It is not, as many claim, illogical, as it was logic that built the Trinitarian edifice. There is a limit to this logic, however, and there does come a point where logic is baffled because we recognize the limits of words and language to convey the deeper things of religious experience. This also is not illogical. All religious traditions agree that while words are necessary to take us "there" a point comes where words fail.

But there are times when I view Jesus as universal soul, the "celestial self" of whom Henry Corbin writes, the fravarti, the Daena we will meet on the road to the Cinvat Bridge. This vision is found in Manichaeism, Sufism and Pure Land Buddhism. But it is not foreign to Christianity. In Corbin's view, Jesus was viewed by some (e.g. in the Shepherd of Hermas) as an Angel along the same lines. And the more I understand the idea of the Imam in Shi'ite Islam the more it makes sense. There can be no doubt that there are parallel lines of "seeing" between this vision of Islam and the Christ who is "angelic" in this sense.

So which Jesus?

Then there is the cultural Jesus, the "substitute Jesus" of the cult of celebrity, whether musicians, movie stars, pro athletes, talk show hosts or any other "famous" person in whom we place our trust and allegiance, only to cruficy them when they fail. Why else are the tabloids so popular? It's because we want to know the dirt they do. We prop them up, support their lifestyles so that we can, in a sense, fund them the lives we wish to live, watch them as voyeurs, safely from a distance, and then thrive when they fall.

There is the Islamic Jesus, the Buddhist Jesus, the Jewish Jesus, the Jesus Seminar Jesus, the macho Jesus, the feminist Jesus, even the atheist Jesus. Lots of Jesuses out there. Which Jesus?

Isn't it quite possible that all these views of Jesus actually embrace him? Perhaps Jesus has become nothing more than a collective projection of an innate goodness onto a "figure" named Jesus, whose roots are found in the New Testament but who has become the repository of the collective human consciousness. Perhaps the "New Age" Jesus is in full effect.

I think any vision of Jesus will always develop and change over time. After all, this is theology plain and simple. There is really no theology proper in Islam. Theology implies an independent interpretation and, as such, has been controversial in Islamic history. Judaism also does not place great emphasis on theology. Theology, in these two faiths, are basically the equivalent of what is believed. But there are, in general, no disputations about the "nature" of God.

Theology really developed in answer to the question Jesus poses: "Who do you say that I am?" It is this, when analyzed through independent reason and the adoption of Greek philosophical methods and terms to a Christian paradigm, that drove Christian theology. So while every avenue of who Jesus was/is has been, throughout the great debates in Church history, analyzed and discussed and argued about, there is still a challenge on the individual level to wrestle with this question.

It is this wrestling, and a more independent streak in the post-Enlightenment world, that has led to all the divisions within Christendom and has given rise to the post-denominational world of the Church today. Add to this the Jesus of culture or of other religions and the mystery of who he really was/is increases.

As a Christian to not wrestle with this question requires blind allegiance to a teacher or pastor or blind allegiance to ignorance (i.e. fear). As a thinking Christian, wrestling with this question, while potentially dangerous, can be liberating. This does not mean leaving Christianity or abandoning Jesus or somehow failing God.

No, this means that you, as an individual, take responsibility for finding the answer on your own. Any visionary, anyone who has had an experience with the "risen Christ" has done so when he ventured beyond the confines of familiarity and contentment and journeyed out beyond into the realms of darkness where the soul is on its own, where the soul can find a true and genuine faith.

This is the realm where the "mystic" or the "visionary" who comes back with a tale to tell and a desire to help others. But this is also the realm in which, if not careful, the self-declared mystic and visionary comes back and leads eager and gullible souls to hell (think Jim Jones).

Self-definition is tough. I hate labels and categories. Labels and categories serve as a reference point, a leaping off point, but in the end they too need abandoned. Even the name of Jesus can become a hindrance as we creat an idol out of the imagery we attach to the name.

I am reminded, as is often the case, of the Dao De Jing:

"The Dao that can be told is not the eternal Dao.

The name that can be named, is not the eternal name." DDJ, 1, Feng translation

Yet the question remains: "Who do you say that I am?"

Americanization of Sufism...

Rather than a specifically Americanized version, there is a larger Western scholarly category called Orientalist which is basically the Western study, often biased or with a specific agenda, of things "Oriental" under which Islam falls.

An article from Carl W. Ernst in Brannon Wheeler's compilation of essays pertaining to Teaching Islam goes more deeply into how Sufism has been isolated from its historical roots. Brannon Wheeler, in several articles on Khidr/Khezr (one of my favorite characters of any religion), radically altered my views in "influence/borrowing" in Islam. On this, I'll post more when I get time.

According to Ernst the term and category Sufism was first coined by British Orientalists in India, particularly Sir William Jones. He notes that the "dervishes", the symbol of Sufism, were known but only as exotic curiosities. The term Sufi was given primarily to the literary phase, particularly the poetry, convinced that the elegant poems of Hafiz and Rumi could have nothing to do with the Islamic (then called "Mahometan") religion. The Sufis (whose character was gleaned from within the literature) were free spirits and thus had little in common with the "stern faith" of Muhammad.

Ernst notes that

the term Sufism was invented at the end of the eighteenth century as an appropriation of those portions of "Oriental" culture that Europeans found attractive.

Ernst seeks to make the point that the nonpolitical image of Sufism is illusory. It's a different angle than merely criticizing Sufism's excision from its Islamic roots which has overtones of a strictly "religious" critique. After all, Islam is a worldview and this includes politics under its umbrella.

There is often a polarity posed between Islam and Sufism, as if Sufism is somehow not Islamic or as if it intentionally freed itself from the grasps of a fundamentalist faith. While historically there have been clashes between the fundamentalist variety of Islam and the more "mystical" strain (which Orientalists have coined "Sufi"), the battle has been for the "control of [Islam's] central religious symbols" (113).

Fundamentalists (in any faith or political worldview, for that matter), who fear any alternative interpretation as threatening, have taken the lead of the Orientalist view and have sought to make Sufism into a subject separable from Islam, even hostile to it, as Ernst points out. This makes the fundamentalists the "sole authentic custodians of tradition" even though such groups constitute only 20 percent of any Muslim population. Sufism is thus not included in the "history" of Islam from this paradigm.

However, many a Sufi order has been actively involved in politics even, ironically, active in resiting colonial rule. Hasan al-Banna, founder of the Muslim Brotherhood and Abu al-'Ala' Mawdudi, founder of the Jama'at-i Islami, were admirers of the structure of the Sufi orders. While they may not adopt the spiritual practices, they acted in relation to their followers "with all the charisma of a Sufi master in the company of disciples" (113). So the Sufi "mystique" has a powerful hold over on Muslim society so the fundamentalist reinterpretation of history is a powerful spin.

With differing motives, both Orientalists and fundamentalist have sought, quite successfully, to separate Sufism from its Islamic roots. Those associaetd with that which is now generically called "Sufism" are not called on to make explicit statements regarding their relation to "mainstream" Islam. However, according to Ernst, prior to the nineteenth and twentiety centuries, it was scarcely necessary for a Sufi, "steeped in the Quran and the example of Prophet Muhammad", to have to provide self-definition in terms of Islam. This has been a result of Islam becoming "the eternal other" as opposition to the modern West (115).

Ernst ends his essay discussing mysticism as a category. He notes that it is "often reduced to a bare universalism...and...to the private experience of the individual" (121). In this view, then, military and economic activities inherent in Sufism's past do not fit this picture of mysticism and is disgarded. However, Ernst notes that this is difficult to do with the truth about Sufism's history. Sufis are constantly reminded of this by the model of the Prophet Muhammad, who is, for them, the role of social and political leader, as well as mystical exemplar.

In essence, then, Sufism should be studied in its context for understanding. It is much more than Rumi; it is much more than the "mystical" side of Islam; it is much more than the "real" Islam. All of these are subjective, isolated views which, when not taken as part of a larger whole, become private affairs and cease to have any real application in the world at large. Religion as a solely private thing can be just as dangerous as religion at the institutional level.

In other words, "mysticism", a generic category into which Sufism has been lumped, has come to mean "I'm spiritual, not religious" or "I don't like organized religion" or "All religions are the same" or "All religions lead to the same place", well-meaning slogans that really equate to unwillingness to commit to any form of religious or doctrinal affiliation, Man as the measure of all things. Really, it is nothing more than the Great Em Ee desiring to be the center of all things, including the judge of Truth.

The problem isn't whether "Sufism" is "mystical" or Sufism vs. Islam or Sufism devoid of content as much it is the problem of how few of us are really willing to commit, i.e. surrender self, to any Path requiring genuine sacrifice. Believe me, I only recognize it when I see it because I am just as guilty of this as the next person.

Faith is messy because it changes us.

Unity in Diversity - Worship

Having come from a "shh...we're in church" background, being introduced to the "born again" version of Christianity in a charismatic Oneness Pentecostal church in the heart of the inner city in Youngstown was a swing to other end of the pendulum. However, because of this I was able to discern the cultural elements in this church.

There is a tendency to take the cultural elements and impose them as if they are part of the necessary truth of the faith. So if you aren't doing "X" enough or doing "Y" enough you aren't "saved" enough or "Christian" enough. It's a subtle form of enslavement. This imposition of the cultural elements is a potential in any faith tradition.

When we left there (due, in large part, to the overemphasis on the emotionalism and the cult of celebrity), we found a church with an upbeat style of worship but much more subdued (i.e. white). We thoroughly enjoy the worship even though I miss the style of worship at the church we left.

Anyhow, over the years I've realized that it's really all beautiful. The fact that grown people have found something that inspires them to praise in such a dynamic fashion in whatever form it is expressed is a powerful thing. Sometimes, however, it is easy to look at "other" religious traditions and admire their praise and their forms of worship. For some reason I found the worship within the tradition I found myself in to be strange, weird, overdone.

So at church this morning I noticed the people at the altar and their various forms of expression. At times there is a critical spirit that comes over me and I judge what they are doing. I have to stop myself and realize that it's easy to sit on my a** and be a critic. Instead of lifting my spirit up to God I am playing judge and jury on earth.

I realized this morning that I have no idea what the two men who were laid out on the floor have been going through. I have no idea what the woman jumping and bouncing has been going through. I don't know what is in their hearts. The point is I don't know. So who am I to sit back and criticize? It's a really disgusting feeling.

So with all the diversity within the Christian church, there is a unity in the diversity. It's just easier to notice the division. Embrace the diversity. We're all on the same team.

There is a series of videos circulating on the Web that are brilliantly done and highlight this quite well. For the cynic, it's obviously a slam. The video is pretty funny (and well edited).

But if you just stop for a moment and see the beauty in it the joy will become infectious. It really is pretty cool. Just different.

Enjoy:



Still haven't found any rave videos set to worship music. I think the contrast would point out that music is a form of or means toward expanding the mind toward something "higher". There are many parallels between the "trance" effect of both techno music and worship music.

So for the religious folk who think raves and techno music are somehow evil or some such thing, keep in mind that what people seek at raves are the same things people seek in church: community, relationship, connection, even spirituality.

So we come to where cultures and faith collide: check this video out (sorry if you aren't a techno fan...give it a chance anyhow, it's brief...):



This video is a snippet from a "Club Worship" in Reading PA featuring Andy Hunter, a Christian DJ though if you look at his website and such you may have to search a little to find this fact. His music appeared in The Matrix Reloaded so he has respect as a musician. Here's an interview with him.

So what do you think? Is this "true" worship music? Compromise? Sell out? Something to ponder.

I find it interesting but I'm not sure giving something a "Christian" stamp means a whole lot, kind of like Christian yoga and the Christian martial arts center down the street from my home (now for sale). Can't yoga just be yoga, martial arts just be martial arts, a DJ be a DJ and techno be techno?

Daoist critique of Christianity

"When everyone knows good as good, this is not good." Dao De Jing, Chapter 2, Thomas Cleary translation.

That's not a very literal translation but Cleary's was my first Dao De Jing, the one I was reading when I entered the stream.

A fairly literal translation would be:

"When all know the good (shan) good,
There is then the not good (pu shan)."(Chen translation)

This doesn't take into account any philosophical insight into how "good" or "not good" is understood but the meaning is pretty clear in the overall context. Opposites give rise to one another. You don't recognize good without an understanding of bad. These are distinctions in the mind. To transcend this leads to the realization that everything just "is" and any distinctions or labels are constructs of the human mind.

But Cleary's translation provides some penetrating insight. In terms of the culture at large, think of those things that become popular. Popular is somewhat akin to vulgur, common, base. In order for something to be popular it must be watered down, filtered, reduced to its lowest common denominator in order that it reach a mass audience.

The easiest example would be pop music. Heavy on hooks, light on substance. It reaches a mass audience. Think about "alternative" music or music that just isn't mainstream. It isn't "popular" in this sense. There may be many who like the music but in the end it has a limited audience. The more "popular" something becomes the lighter it becomes in order to do so. There may be exceptions to this rule but Top 40 captures this for a reason. Commercial radio today longs for this. In order to reach the largest audience it cannot have music that targets only the few. The advertisers on such a station want the same: maximum reach. In order to do this, it must seek to maintain a middle of the road presence, safe enough for everybody.

So "popular" is not necessarily a good word. It's akin to selling out which is a frequent criticism of bands who make it big. They compromise their essence and seek to "sell" a certain sound. In other words it is the selling, not the music, as such, that drives them. Bands that have been around for years with a steady following often have that one big album. Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA"; The Police's "Synchronicity"; J. Geils Band's "Freeze Frame". And then they never quite hit that level of popularity again. Thus the problem with seeking to be popular as there is no way to please everyone.

So it is with Christianity. The Jesus of today is popular. He is everywhere and everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a Jesus in mind, whether the fundamentalist variety, the buddy Jesus, the Muslim Jesus, the Gnostic Jesus or the Course in Miracles Jesus, the historical Jesus, the list goes on and on and on. In this sense, Jesus is certainly popular. But this isn't necessarily a good thing for it doesn't really answer the question: who was Jesus?

It turns Jesus into a pop star, someone we can mold into whatever image we see fit. We can elevate him only as far as is comfortable. And then we can leave him behind when he doesn't match our beliefs. This Jesus doesn't transform; this Jesus aligns with what we already believe.

I would make the argument that, as understood in this context, when everyone knows Jesus, this is not good. This isn't to say it is bad as, from a Daoist point of view, the bad contains the seed of the good. After all, Paul says that even if Christ is preached in contention, at least he is still being preached.

It simply means that the question still lingers, always pushing us further, always drawing us in, never leaving us at complete rest, just out of reach, until we truly answer: "Who do you say I am?"

Americanization of Rumi...Part Two

As El-Zein notes, one of the major feature of the 'New Sufism' is the fact that the majority of the translations of Rumi's verse comes from English, not the original Persian. The name Jonathan Star, who has also "translated" the Dao De Jing, is listed in the article as one of these adepts. Star is among a seemingly endless group of English speaking authors (e.g. Stephen Mitchell et al) who render a multitude of works from different faith traditions.

For example, Coleman Barks, whose publishing career is Rumi, worked with John Moyne to render the Essential Rumi (of which I have a copy) from A.J. Arberry's scholarly translation. El-Zein quotes Barks:

"John Moyne and I try to be faithful to the images, the tone as we hear it, and the spiritual information coming through. We have not tried to reproduce any of the dense musicality of the Persian originals. It has seemed appropriate to place Rumi in the strong tradition of American free verse." (75)

I've heard his poems expressed in the original Persian. A respected scholar of Islam who teaches where I obtained my BA in Religious Studies, fluent in Persian, recited some of his poems. American free verse melts like butter in comparison. Granted, not everyone can learn or understand Persian. Just as plastic can only be recycled so many times before it loses its strength completely, so too these renderings being removed from their original context one too many times loses any tie to its original and becomes eisegesis, proof-texting to sell the particular viewpoint of the one wielding the words.

El-Zein quotes Deepak Chopra following suit:

"They, (the poems) are not direct translations but 'moods' that we have captured as certain phrases radiated from the original Farsi, giving life to a new creation but retaining the essence of its source." (75)

Rumi has been Americanized. El-Zein states that the basic Islamic element in Rumi's work "has been diluted in the soup of 'New Sufism' to the extent that Islam appears as mainly folkloric" and Rumi himself nothing more than a product for spiritual consumption (76).

Here are some shortcomings of the New Sufism when compared to its Islamic context. The modern renderings do not stress, as in the scholarly works, the idea that human love is transformed into love of the Divine. Rumi's works are filled with allusions to Islamic themes. Without these themes there is no context, no ground, and one can say just about anything. Similarity in comparative religion does not mean sameness. Only by removing context can one sell a viewpoint that all "mysticism" looks the same, "superficial and vulgar" (78), to use El-Zein's expression. Such comparisons become nothing more than generalizations.

As an example, El-Zein takes Andrew Harvey to task. From Rumi's point of view the conception of silence, of emptiness, is interpreted through the first and most important aspsect of the shahadah, la ilaha illa allah (There is no god but God), the silence yielding to listening to the Qur'an. For Harvey, silence is related to the dance of Kali, to 'Shiva Shakti who is peace and energy in One' thus making it seem as if Rumi's verse belongs to the Tao which is not, El-Zein points out, the Tao as spoken of in the I Ching. Rumi's beloved, Shams, is even compared to a Zen master. (80)

If we pay careful attention to these New Agey interpretations, the agenda becomes clear. All bearings are lost and these comparative religions are cast adrift in a sea of endless meaninglessness, the ground of seemingly finding a "spirituality" that conforms to what is already believed, to confirm some utopian vision of the way things should be. This is not necessarily the fault of the listener/reader who is dependent upon the work of the authors nor is it to say that the authors are somehow being deceitful.

But if one really does any in-depth analysis of religious traditions the shallowness of such comparisons become abundantly clear and disconcerting. El-Zein calls this "spiritual elusiveness" (81). When everyone knows good as good, this is not good.

To drive the point home, El-Zein points out that Rumi was deeply rooted in Islamic tradition. Quoting Arberry:

"Before everything, he (Rumi) was a learned theologian after the firmest pattern of medieval Islam, very familiar with the Koran and its exegesis, the traditional sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, the sacred law and its erudite exposition." (81)

Seyyed Hussein Nasr, himself a member of the Traditionalist school, quotes Hadi Ha'iri, a renowned scholar of Rumi in Persia, as saying that some 6,000 verses of Rumi's Diwan and the Mathnawi are practically direct translations of Qur'anic verse into Persian poetry. In other words, "a different Rumi [is] created by Barks and Harvey and other interpreters, a Rumi for the American market." (81-2) To cut, isolate and dissect Rumi from his Islamic roots is to do an injustice not only to Rumi and his faith tradition but to the American public as well who are, in essence, being fed junk food.

Here are Rumi's words as rendered by Harvey:

"I do not know who I am
I am in astounding confusion.
I am not a Christian, I am not a Jew, I am not a Zoroastrian,
And I am not even a Muslim. (82)

To quote Rumi himself (as translated by Shems Friedlander):

I am the slave of the Koran
While I still have life.
I am the dust on the path of the Prophet Muhammad,
The chosen one,
If anyone interprets my words
in any other way,
I deplore that person,
And I deplore his words. (82)

What more is there to say?

The Americanization of Rumi...Part One

Religion, like most things in America, is a commodity. When someone finds a market for something, it grows and grows as others jump on the bandwagon. Context means little when it comes to the commodification of religion. As with anything "popular" it's about filtering it down to its basic marketing essence and stripping it of anything that may limit its saleability. Popular, in my opinion, is a derogatory term.

A prime example of this commodification is the fascination with Rumi. Look at any bookshelf in Barnes & Noble or Borders under Islam or Eastern Religions. There will be some translations of the Qur'an, a few books dealing with historical Islam, a few works taking Islam to task (which is par for the course as works taking Christianity to task have become quite popular in their own right), a few books on Sufism (frequently Americanized) and the majority of the space filled with books on or about Rumi.

So who is Rumi? Rumi is marketed as the poet of love. To market him in an Islamic context would certainly hinder sales related to his name. Some speak of his universality and present him as a mystical poet who transcends religious bounds.

I searched for God among the Christians and on the Cross and therein I found Him not.
I went into the ancient temples of idolatry; no trace of Him was there.
I entered the mountain cave of Hira and then went as far as Qandhar but God I found not.
With set purpose I fared to the summit of Mount Caucasus and found there only 'anqa's habitation.
Then I directed my search to the Kaaba, the resort of old and young; God was not here even.
Turning to philosophy I inquired about him from ibn Sina but found Him not within his range.
I fared then to the scene of the Prophet's experience of a great divine manifestation only a "two bow-lengths' distance from him" but God was not there even in that exalted court.
Finally, I looked into my own heart and there I saw Him; He was nowhere else.

I first saw this poem on the liner notes of the cassette (not the CD for some reason) of Enigma's 1990 album MCMXC A.D.. Here is the version contained there:

I tried to find Him on the Christian cross,but He was not there;
I went to the Temple of the Hindus and to the old pagodas, but I could not find a trace of Him anywhere.
I searched on the moutains and in the valleys but neither in the hights nor in the depths was I able to find Him.
I went to the Caaba in Mecca, but He was not there either.
I questioned the scholars and philosophers but He was beyond thair understanding.
I then looked into my heart and it was there where He dwelled that I saw him; he was nowhere else to be found.

I haven't sourced either translation (the second I'm guessing is from Coleman Barks) but which do you think would sell to a popular market, primarily in the U.S.? This is representative of how he is viewed in popular culture. He has been accosted, reinterpreted, sanitized and repackaged as happens in consumer culture.

This doesn't have to be a bad thing. His works are popular for a reason and they certainly spark something positive in people. And the power of his words, even in translation/interpretation, are powerful and deep. There is obviously a hunger in people for truth.

While in the throes of my journey into Islam I picked up a free copy of the March 2000 issue of Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations journal published through the Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding out of Georgetown University. In it is an article by Amira El-Zein called "Spiritual Consumption in the United States: the Rumi phenomenon" which discusses how Rumi's work is "taken nowadays out of the Muslim Sufi tradition into an elusive spiritual movement [called] the 'New Sufism'" (p. 71).

El-Zein calls those who seek to recontextualize Rumi's works as the "new interpreters" and refers to translations of his works by those involved in this movement as "renderings" of his verse. El-Zein points out that his popularity has resulted in Coleman Barks' plethora of Rumi works selling over a quarter of a million copies, recordings of the works of Rumi entering Billboard's Top Twenty, a compact disc of Rumi's works being produced for a New York fashion show with participating artists including Madonna, Rosa Parks, Goldie Hawn and the one man who truly knows no boundaries when it comes to marketing religion, Deepak Chopra. Poetry readings have even been held at a Disney Store in Glendale, California.

So what is wrong with all this talk about love, trying to break free of the fetters of religion that often divide? If Rumi gives expression to such love, why is it so wrong to quote him? Why can't all religions be one? Why can't we heed the words of John Lennon? Why can't we pick and choose, recontextualize and make the world a better place?

El-Zein does not criticize this notion, as such. El-Zein is simply pointing out that Rumi has been eisegetically interpreted based on the beliefs of the 'New Sufism' movement.

There are academic translations which provide accurate translations and provide the context which is essential in understanding the symbolism of Rumi's poems. These scholarly works are certainly not popular in a mass marketed sense. Works such as Mathnawi of Jalaluddin Rumi (6 Volume Set) and Look! This Is Love (Shambhala Centaur Editions) are examples.

The context is essential to truly grasping and appreciating what Rumi is saying. In the two examples above, the second version has, with the exception of the Caaba, been sanitized of all Islamic references. It is safe and fluid enough to be framed and hung on the wall in the most religious of homes and the most non-religious of homes. This is the essence of New Age thinking. Man is the measure of all things.

The 'New Sufism' renderings follow similar patterns, though those in this movement are often quite critical of the New Age movement. Sufism is thus poised as being the face of "true" Islam while the media version of screaming maniacal gun totin' bearded rebels wrapped in turbans with their woman in burqas the face of the "hijacked" Islam.

It's all about spin, positioning and marketing.

Too much...

With all this free music available to download and well over 100 GB of music stored on various hard drives, is it any wonder I can't listen to any of it?

There's something Daoist about this notion...

Smokin' weed...

Why did I dream about getting high last night? It's been over ten years. Could be the stress load, the addiction diverted, could be all the talk in the news about legalizing marijuana (a good move, if you ask me...though one has to wonder about the quality of the stuff should it be FDA approved) or the fact I was thinking about plasma donation and the warehouse I used to live in was right next door where I used to get high with the landlord and, late at night, climb up on the roof and sit for hours.

Were pot to be made legal, would my use, or lack thereof, change? Is it ethically, morally or spiritually wrong other than the fact that it's been made illegal?

Christians for Cannibis anyone?

Is theology a luxury?

I remember talking to my professor of Islam about theology, though Islam doesn't really have "theology" proper in the way Christianity does which is primarily claming to know about the nature of God. For the most part, perhaps a few mystics or Traditionalists aside, Islam doesn't spend much time positing about the nature of God. God is clear in the Qur'an about Who He is and what is expected. God isn't someone we get to know personally as much as He is someone who is recognized for who He is and, as such, what we need to do to obey His commands. This is present in Christianity but in Christianity "theology" delves into the nature of God due to the fact of the Incarnation and the "who" that is revealed in Jesus.

But I do remember talking to him about the diversity found within the Islamic tradition and how scholars throughout the ages have debated and argued about the very things the Western media portrays stereotypically as a given. I wondered why Muslims weren't fighting to have this information fluorish and why it seems most Muslims are unaware of this, instead taking what the Imam says as the only way (something Christians are obviously guilty of as well).

His response was quite to the point: for many, maybe even most, Muslims, they are busy struggling to live life. Belief tends to be simple in such cases. Theology takes time; time is a luxury.

It's pretty apparent I have plenty of time and, given the number of books and websites and common knowledge of much of Christian theology in America, it appears that many, many Americans have plenty of time as well.

My wife puts it more simply: how does this make you a better person?

I will say, however, that the study of theology, balanced by wife's simple brilliance, has helped me immensely. For primarily financial reasons I was unable to attend grad school for advanced study of religion/theology. Probably a good thing because at the time I was torn between Oneness Pentecostalism and Islam and my personal relationship with God was, well, not a relationship but an intellectual adventure. I was still on the outside looking in.

I now see the truth about theology: it is experiential. If it is not, it is just theory. Revelation must be applied.

To Do List...

We live in an age where there is so much information that we’ve actually run out of things to say. To do lists become best sellers. Interesting, sure. But we’re still talking about to do lists, analyzing every trivial detail of our existence, those things once considered mundane now considered of serious discussion. Information overload, reductionism taken to its logical end.

Those significant things, things costing lives, things causing pain and suffering in others, are sometimes too much to handle so we focus on the trivial. War in Iraq? We’ll complain and moan but it’s way too much to deal with so we immerse ourselves in to do lists which, by the way, never contain such things as "Protest war at local court house" or "Travel to Washington to protest" but contain such things as upgrade cell phone or pick up dog food. How many of our to do lists contain things such as "Help at local soup kitchen" or "travel to India" not to see the Taj Mahal but to work with the poor in the slums? How many of our to do lists are "other" oriented?

I do it. We all do it. That's why it's interesting.

But it's often easier to argue about theology, or to do lists, than deal with the real world stuff, the messy, tangible, dingy, nasty, filthy shit that is in the world. Although maybe the to do list is the real world.

Stages of cool...

A question had popped up in my Facebook asking for 15 albums that changed my life and to list them within 15 minutes. I made the list and revisited one of the albums today. Peter Gabriel's Security (the U.S. title; everywhere else it was simply Peter Gabriel or Peter Gabriel 4).

Jon Wolf, older brother of Mike Wolf, whose house I spent the night at, who was my first (and only) fight because I called his girlfriend a scum in 7th grade, recommended this to me. He mentioned that Peter Gabriel was an expert at synthesizers and that sounded really cool even though I had no clue what he was talking about. So I went out and bought the cassette. I had the 45 single of "Shock the Monkey" and loved the B-side track.

Up until this point, the general interest was KISS Alive II, Van Halen's Diver Down, AC/DC's Back and Black and Top 40 radio. Lightweight, trapped in the insulated bubble of suburbia.

However, having been raised on a healthy of mix of outlaw country music, Gordon Lightfoot and early Jimmy Buffett (all on 8 track tapes, mind you) my little world began to expand. Perhaps the earliest album that infiltrated my naivete was Pink Floyd's The Wall . I remember playing "Another Brick in the Wall" and having my dad comment what a stupid song it was.

I have happy reminisces about listening to WDMT, an urban radio station out of Cleveland, in the early 1980s on my little clock radio, recording rap songs with an old tape recorder. Long before Run DMC hit the big time and brought rap music to the mainstream en masse, Grandmaster Flash's "The Message" freaked me out when I heard lyrics such as "junkies in the alley with baseball bat" and had horrific images of what this meant (most likely formed by stereotypes reinforced either by television or through attrition in the fears of suburbia). Morris Day and The Time's "The Walk" introduced me to funky, the lyrics which caused endless hours of laughter and curiosity. I still had a tape up of a bunch of these songs until a few years ago where it has since disappeared.

Anyhow, while these seeds of eclecticism were still budding, Peter Gabriel's music took what I was hearing one step deeper and one step beyond. The year is 1982.

The Security album set me free. The first track, with its thundering drums and exotic sounds, were unlike anything I had ever heard. I played it and played it and played it. My world changed. Lyrics included such words as "mitigating circumstances", "cynical bite" and "Hippocratic oath" that expanded my awareness of what music could do and say.

Though I would still surf the pop music wave for quite some time, it was this album that seeded my interest in world music and music outside of the mainstream.

I really didn't get into "alternative" music until my freshman year in college when I would encounter the Violent Femmes, the Smiths, early hardcore punk, the Beastie Boys and early college rock. It was then that I was on my way and I would eventually leave Top 40 pop music in the dust. I had found music that spoke to me; I had voices speaking for me.

I saw him in concert twice, once in the second row of the Pittsburgh Civic Arena with Youssou N'Dour opening on his So tour. I absolutely loved Youssou. I will never forget the freshness of these artists from South Africa, dressed in their bright, colorful clothing and dancing so freely. I didn't understand a word they said but loved it. We fed off of them and they fed off of us, a bunch of goofy suburban white kids dancing to this "exotic" music.

The show itself was one of the best concerts I had ever seen. The songs didn't sound like the versions on the album. They were fresh. Peter Gabriel performed as an artist, a far cry from the rock n roll shows I had seen previously where the songs sounded like the albums, or worse. No, Peter Gabriel was, and still is, an artist, the standard by which I would measure other concerts. No longer would I throw money away at glorified bar bands. I suppose I developed musical "taste" (or snobbery, not sure which).

I have a piece of his shirt from this show. What the hell was I thinking? During this song he stage dives (long before stage diving became popular...) into the audience and the hands carry him around the arena. Not this time. I don't know if it was just me but I grabbed his shirt and wouldn't let go. It ripped. I still have it, like a vampire, like a groupie. When he got back on stage, shirt torn, he stared right at me and smiled. Or smirked a knowing smile. What an embarrassment. Rather than surf the crowd he got to the second row.

Loved the show; this moment is what I remember. My filter is whack. I hold onto those things that carry pangs of regret, shame, guilt, embarrassment. Yet these too are my ego holding on to some notion of who I am that is false. This is becoming ever so clear. At some point I hope to laugh at them, not out of spite, not out of shame or embarrassment, but of genuine laughter at the clarify of seeing the illusion in them, a true sign of being healed.

I remember a classmate's obsession with Rush, a group I had never heard of before his mention of them, and another classmate's infatuation with Bono from U2 in 1983 (same year as the book jacket in my other post), another group I had never heard of until that moment.

I was never cool. Still not. Which is cool.

Let the healing process unfold...

The economy hits home...

A little over four years ago I lost a job as a glorified manager for a non-profit facility whose board of directors (well, one person in particular...) viewed the facility as a tuxedo-laden opera house when, in reality, it's a public auditorium. I left the job of being a grocery store manager an hour's drive from my home with insane hours, either early morning start time or late night end time, along with physical exertion (which actually, minus the weight loss, got me in decent shape).

Anyhow...

When I lost this job, rather than go for unemployment, something I've never done, I took a temp job. From a suit and tie in the public spotlight to a day laborer running presses in a metal stamping plant, my career muttness took a strange twist. At the time, however, and at far less than half my previous salary, I found contentment in it. Perhaps it was shedding the suit and tie, perhaps it was leaving the hassle of a board of directors looking for a puppet, but I enjoyed the rhythm and monotony of putting a part on a press and pushing a button. I enjoyed the people I met and found getting my hands dirty to be a form or therapy.

At the time I also picked up a weeekend job working midnights. Not a hard job, mind you, but the midnight shift was rough, especially considering the fact that it was Saturday/Sunday midnight, Sunday leading right into Monday morning for a 16-hour shift to start every week.

But between the two jobs, we made it work at about half the salary I had previously. There were cuts in usual activities, bills that fell behind, medical bills that accumulated with the loss of insurance, filing for assistance with utilities. I soon learned what it was like to have bills go to collections, to have collections agencies calling my house and to watch my credit fall from immaculate to being rejected for credit card applications, things which had never previously happened. My credit score was a symbol of my identity, an indication that I was responsible and had financial freedom when it came to credit options.

But I was living on the edge. Not dangerously. No. Just my debt to income ratio was higher than was wise. But the bills were being paid so it was ok. Due to a life of relative modesty and not too much interest in "stuff" we were not devastated by the turn of events. We struggled, certainly, and had to change things, but overall we managed to be ok.

Over time I was fortunate enough to move up in various positions at the company, surfing the changes and doing quite well. Not quite the salary I had previously but, between the two jobs, getting pretty close. My hours adjusted, I began obtaining training and a viable career path. I picked up an additional shift on the weekend, working 24 hours over the course of a weekend for a 64 hour work week.

Realizing that I had been very fortunate in terms of my career muttness, I began to realize how privileged I had been without being aware of it. I spent a few years "slacking" but I still had the cushion, untouched, of an IRA accumulated from reaping the benefits of working in the cellular industry during its early 90s boom. This was a security blanket of last resort, a "well, if I lose everything I can cash this out..." kind of thing.

However, I had to tap out the IRA to fix the roof on the house and pick up another beater to replace my other beater. So we began to get the bills under control again, the long process of cleaning up collections accounts and past due bills began.

And then came late 2008. The economy tanked. The facility I work in was not exempt and, as a manufacturing facility tied to the automotive/truck industry, the business felt its impact. It impacted my wage and, as of this week, hours at job two. I have now lost roughly 25% of my income. Add to that the need to raise the withholding tax as we owe the IRS this year and life has gotten interesting.

No longer in the position to which I was promoted, I am back running presses. But I still run the hell out of them. There is a sense of pride in running them quickly, looking for ever more efficient ways to do things.

Standing and bending for eight hours a day now while breaking in a new pair of steel toe boots and going home and continuing P90X at a high level of intensity did a number on my hip. Now I can't even exercise at the moment.

So at once my faith has gotten stronger, independent of, or at least not causally related to, my job and at the same time my other forms of security to which I once clung so tightly, has slipped.

Add to that the darkness of an addiction coming to light and I feel the power of resurrection.

Irony indeed.

How do you define success?

I was talking with a friend of mine today who is head of Catholic Charities Services, the agency I worked for while working with the homeless as an outreach coordinator. It was perhaps the pivotal period of time in my faith. I was a "new" Christian then, studying religion and Biblical criticism at the university level, my intellect outweighing my heart at the time until I began working with the homeless.

Anyhow, he has been involved with a group of local evangelical Christians who are business leaders/owners and the question in the title came up. All the men, though they struggled with the question, tended to answer it in terms of financial terms, i.e. their business is doing well, their needs and wants are filled, they have financial security, etc.

My friend point out Philippians 2:5-8:

"Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus,
who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped,
but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, {and} being made in the likeness of men.
Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (NASB)

Now in many neo-Protestant circles, these passages are for one thing only: to prove that Jesus is God (never mind the Trinity, never mind theological subtles, just that Jesus is God). The finer point of the passage is glossed over.

"...but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, {and} being made in the likeness of men.
Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (NASB)

In other words, how does blessed (i.e. success) translated in material terms line up with Jesus? It would seem to me to contradict his message. His message was radical.

"Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be complete, go {and} sell your possessions and give to {the} poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." (Matthew 19:21, cf. Mark 10:21, Luke 18:22)

No getting around it. This is the ideal.

This doesn't mean we have to be poor. Just as being wealthy is not indicative of one's faith, neither is being poor. It's the other side of the coin. This is looking at the outside of the cup. It says nothing of what is in one's heart.

But any wealth is to be used for others. Give to the poor. We are vessels, stewards of what is God's.

"The earth [is] the LORD'S, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.

It is God's. We are thus stewards. If it is given to us, it is for a purpose and just as Christ emptied himself, so too are we to empty ourselves and become a vessel through which God can reach others. We are to be the light of the world.

Sadly, our notions of "salvation" and "saved" and "blessing" have become self-centered, personal, me-oriented with material/financial overtones. In other words, we define success by the standards of the culture at large and not the other way. No wonder people can't distinguish a Christian from anyone else, other than the oddball culture that many Christianities have birthed.

The oddest preachers, the celebrities on television or viral videos (think of the Farting Preacher) and that is the closest Christianity comes to a "culture" of its own.

Yet too often Christians go the other route and try to be cool, hip and down with the culture at large.

C'mon. Bumper stickers, crosses on chains, the ubiquitous Jesus fish, pamphlets, leaflets, flyers, business cards, hats, Jesus on a motorcycle, Jesus playing hoops and on and on and on they go cluttering up the landscape.



They are trinkets. You can be cool and be a Christian. The culture drives the faith rather than other way around.

Debt and the mess we are in...

The root cause of the current economic situation is not the banks, nor the government, nor corporations, nor the decline in manufacturing. No, the root cause is me. And you. We are culpable. We want. We desire. We crave. We are self-centered and consumerism is simply the manifestation of this inner drive. Think about it.

All these other institutions stem from the individuals involved, not from the institutions themselves, as if they run without human intervention.

If we didn't have to own things or want newer or bigger things or the latest technology, the instant gratification of everything now, would we have all this debt? Would we have credit cards? Mortgages we can't afford? Car loans on automobiles worth less than the loan value?

I am just as guilty. I pay my bills on time though I have a debt load that has become a prison. The choices I made years ago still haunt me. Had I followed my own advice then I wouldn't be in the mess I'm in now.

I don't expect a government bailout and don't believe the bailout will fix anything unless we change our behaviour.

"The rich rules over the poor, And the borrower {becomes} the lender's slave." (Proverbs 22:7)

"No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth." (Matthew 6:4)

And the famous, and misquoted:

"For the love of money is a root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." (1 Timothy 6:10)

Yet Paul hits the essence of the matter on the head:

"Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another; for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled {the} law." (Romans 13:8)

The Jubilee code of Leviticus 25 is a hidden gem in the Bible. It is often overlooked or ignored, perhaps because it is not know if it was every truly practised or if it is because it is buried in the midst of Leviticus' rather dry and lengthy list of shalls and shall nots. But it is well worth visiting.

Here is an interesting article pulled up by a quick search:

The Jubilee Code

I had studied this in some detail while in school but have become rusty on it. Perhaps it is a good time to revisit it and join the debate.

Attachment and desire...

"Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him and said to him, "One thing you lack: go and sell all you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." (Mark 10:21, NASB)

"Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be complete, go {and} sell your possessions and give to {the} poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." (Matthew 19:21, NASB)

"When Jesus heard {this,} He said to him, "One thing you still lack; sell all that you possess and distribute it to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." (Luke 18:22, NASB)

That is revolutionary.

Is this selling of all and giving to the poor a mandate in itself? Is Jesus calling this charity or simply a means to another end? Jesus says elsewhere that the poor will always be with us so he isn't calling for a form of communism to eliminate poverty. The scenes in Acts 2 and 4 show this played out but even there the call isn't to form a commune but to free one's self from the 'stuff' of the world.

Not only are we called to sell all our stuff, we are asked to give up ourselves in the process. This, it seems to me, is the second step in the process. First we must eliminate the stuff of the world, the possessions to which we attach ourselves, giving it power that is not there. The next step, then, is to deny ourselves.

"And He summoned the crowd with His disciples, and said to them, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me." (Mark 8:34, NASB)

"Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any [man] will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." (Matthew 16:24, NASB)

"And he said to [them] all, If any [man] will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." (Luke 19:34, NASB)

What has happened to the Christians?

How is it that Christianity has become a means to wealth creation?