Imagine, If Christ Were in Christmas

A few years ago I gave a Christmas sermon lifting up the historical Jesus of sound modern scholarship--the ethical Jesus.  Though I'm not a Christian in a cultural sense, I admire this credible Jesus who was a radical egalitarian.  His ethics are a challenge now as they were two millennia ago.

I find the annual contention over crèches, crosses and Christmas versus holiday trees to be shallow concerns from the Christian side—an idolatry of forms over substance. And I muse, What would Christmas be if the historical Christ were truly at the center of the midwinter festival? It would be something radically different from what in our time and place is essentially a commercial holiday.


One of the most controversial aspects of Jesus’s brief ministry was the healing and comforting of the sick. Surviving sources leave no doubt that Jesus gave special attention to the afflicted of body and spirit. Translated to modern times, his example should move a believer to attend to the infirm, the ill, and the emotionally distressed in every circumstance. Certainly it would lead to direct acts of service, including charity for specific groups, which has become a seasonal custom.


But for those of fullest vision, Jesus’ example would also include universal health care. It would be unacceptable for any individual to be excluded from quality medical care because of economic or social circumstance. Followers of Jesus wouldn’t judge who is and who isn’t entitled to full medical care. They would be adamant that all are entitled, and they would seek reform.


Charity would abound in a Christ centered Christmas, but instead of an emphasis on giving downward, from those who have to those who don’t, there would be an emphasis on egalitarianism. The biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan has pointed out that Jesus ate at the same table with the dispossessed of his day, including women. It is one thing to work at a soup kitchen or hand out vouchers for food and meals. It is something else to share a meal, accepting those with whom you eat as fellow human beings through love rather than pity.


Such a radical outlook would awaken a strong sense of those “isms” that keep us apart—racism, classism, sexism, agism—and would ultimately look to correcting injustices and oppressions through what we’ve come to call social justice. Deep Christians would examine and seek to rectify a social and economic system that results in us-versus-them distinctions between the poor, the homeless, the unemployed, the undereducated, the hungry and the rest of us. Like Jesus, Christians would be social revolutionaries, working for systemic change, always from a universal love that knows no distinctions. 


Women in particular would have special focus at Christmas. That Jesus consorted with and lifted up women, relative to the practices of his place and time, would translate in our own place and time into a recognition of women’s full humanity. This wouldn’t be “woman on a pedestal”—mythologized and imbued with virtues that the traditional culture does not or cannot practice. There would be equal participation by women in the family, in the community, in government, in the workplace.


A Christ-centered Christmas would surely confront the endemic violence that marbles our culture. “Peace on earth” wouldn’t be a once-a-year slogan; it would be a motivating principle centered in the teachings of Jesus, internalized with such passion that all acts of individual, community, and state would be inspired by the ideal of nonresistance. Instead of a temporary state, as when warring armies put down their arms on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, peace would be the permanent, expected, normal state motivating all activities.


In a Christ-centered Christmas, the ultimate criterion for judging the motivation of any act would be whether it is done in the expansive spirit of love, which Jesus once declared was the great law. Each Christian would be compelled to look within and rectify her or his heart with the expansive love that Jesus not only taught but lived. Christmas would be a time of reflection and perhaps of corrective change—a time of humility and confidence in the power of love to transform the individual and society and make peace real.

Kingdom Come

In short, Christmas would be radically different from the commercial Christmas we now know. Jesus was an itinerant minister, so he acquired scant possessions. There would be no Black Friday the day after Thanksgiving, with frenzied shoppers lined up for deep discounts and hard-to-come-by products. There would be few if any presents under the Christmas tree (if there were a Christmas tree)—certainly no extravagances. A materialist Christmas would be more than vulgar; it would be sinful. 


What there would be, I suspect, would be the fellowship and the natural levelings of the common table: good food and drink, including wine. But the purpose would be not so much to feast and drink as to gather together in gladness and joy—to be true companions. No one would be lonely or hungry on Christmas Day. And, most important, Christmas Day wouldn’t be one day—a brief interlude in a materialist and market culture—it would be every day. The Kingdom would then truly come, as Jesus once prayed it might. 

Charter for Compassion: 21st Century World Morality

“The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.”

So begins a just launched campaign to “bring the world together,” known as the Charter for Compassion. Karen Armstrong, former nun who has become a popular writer on big issues of religion such as God and Christian/Muslim relations, is a leading voice urging this initiative. Her studies on religion have led her to conclude that compassion is common ground across various religions. She advocates compassion as a means toward a greater campaign promoting the Golden Rule as a worldwide ethic.

The Charter for Compassion’s carefully drafted statement (November 12) was guided by Council of Sages, a multi-faith, multi-national group of religious thinkers and leaders.

In my estimation this campaign reflects a recently revivified interest in promoting the Golden Rule as a means to unify a fragmented world, a world that grows smaller and smaller through communication and travel. In this way Globalization meets Universalism.

This emphasis helps organized religion across the spectrum to transcend isolating and contentious sectarianism.

In earlier postings on this blog I’ve identified the Golden Rule as a significant aspect of Barack Obama’s personal religion and worldview. I recommend this as 21st century moral, world leadership.

All efforts seeking common ground and human mutuality are on target and sorely needed.

Good Without God

The Chicago Coalition for Reason has erected a billboard above the corner of LaSalle Drive and Grand Avenue asking: "Are you good without God? Millions are." The Chicago Tribune gave it a couple of paragraphs.

Atheists, agnostics, and humanists have banded together in several cities to post similar billboard and bus placard messages. A Wisconsin based organization, Freedom From Religion Foundation, has taken an organizational lead.

There appears to be a variety of opinions among the anti-religion community regarding such campaigns. More strident voices seem to be prevailing. The messages grow more aggressive. For example a new campaign quotes Thomas Jefferson: "Religions are all alike founded upon fables and mythologies."

In my estimation such campaigns are ironic. They engage traditional religions, while using "evangelizing" tactics that religions use and that the non-religious usually loathe. Yet, in this regard, the tactics fit into an ongoing God/no-God controversy that is a signature of these times.

Though strictly speaking I belong to the atheist, agnostic, humanist spectrum, I’m not anti-religious. Religion is inherent to the human condition. I simply want my religion to be a religion of realities—naturalistic, true to reason and experience, and compelling.

Character in Our Postmodern Era

My favorite op-ed columnist has become David Brooks. I look forward to his columns in the NY Times, which often draw from the best of contemporary science and social science. To my sensibilities he offers well-reasoned commentary that is also cutting edge. Curiously his musings often coincide with sermons I’m working on.

This week, in "Where the Wild Things Are," Mr. Brooks wrote about the general notion of “character,” contrasting the philosophers’ and psychologists’ point of view, the latter being the most up-to-date. As an illustration he used the character Max of the book that’s become the blockbuster movie du jour: “Where the Wild Things Are.”

The Wild Things are outward expressions of Max’s own inner conflicts. For Mr. Brooks this illustrates the psychologists’ analysis of character. He wrote, “People have only vague intuitions about the instincts and impulses that have been implanted in them by evolution, culture and upbringing. There is no easy way to command all the wild things jostling inside.” Max is every man/every woman.

Earlier in the article Mr. Brooks wrote, “According to the psychologist’s view, individuals don’t have one thing called character."

“The psychologists say this because a century’s worth of experiments suggests that people’s actual behavior is not driven by permanent traits that apply from one context to another. Students who are routinely dishonest at home are not routinely dishonest at school. People who are courageous at work can be cowardly at church. People who behave kindly on a sunny day may behave callously the next day when it is cloudy and they are feeling glum. Behavior does not exhibit what the psychologists call ‘cross-situational stability.’

“The psychologists thus tend to gravitate toward a different view of conduct. In this view, people don’t have one permanent thing called character. We each have a multiplicity of tendencies inside, which are activated by this or that context. As Paul Bloom of Yale put it in an essay for The Atlantic last year, we are a community of competing selves. These different selves 'are continually popping in and out of existence. They have different desires, and they fight for control — bargaining with, deceiving, and plotting against one another.'

“The philosopher’s view is shaped like a funnel. At the bottom, there is a narrow thing called character. And at the top, the wide ways it expresses itself. The psychologist’s view is shaped like an upside-down funnel. At the bottom, there is a wide variety of unconscious tendencies that get aroused by different situations. At the top, there is the narrow story we tell about ourselves to give coherence to life.

“The difference is easy to recognize on the movie screen. Most movies embrace the character version. The hero is good and conquers evil. Spike Jonze’s new movie adaptation of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ illuminates the psychological version.”

In my estimation this is an aspect, and therefore an illustration, of the postmodern context in which we live. For most of my ministerial career I’ve lifted up the notion of character—that character, the coherence of right beliefs and right actions—matters essentially and ultimately. And of course the Unitarian way has been, from its origin two centuries ago, justification by character. This means we “save” ourselves by the good person we freely will to be.

I do see that 20^th and 21^st century Americans live fragmented lives in a fragmented world, where “the [old] center does not hold.” That is the definition of postmodernism in a nutshell, a context where sureties and coherence have deconstructed and the “wild things” threaten to run berserk.

What’s left? There are a number of compelling new ethics from excellent minds of the 20^th/21^st centuries. I’ve been writing about this in a relatively new blog: ethics for postmoderns. These ethics were arrived at independently and therefore appear unrelated. However, I have an intuition that these ethics have what, in another context, the great biologist E.O. Wilson called consilience.

I think that the postmodern dilemma relative to character involves the many ethics that compel our better behavior, in spite of “instincts and impulses … implanted in us by evolution, culture and upbringing.” As Mr. Brooks wrote "there is no easy way."

Each of us has to do the work and act/live with ambiguity that is a function of change and complexity.

Visit my site ethicsforpostmoderns.blogspot.com for glimpses into some of these compelling and challenging "new" ethics.

Day of the Dead

The current Day of the Dead exhibit at the National Museum of Mexican Art (1852 West 19^th Street in Chicago) is “Camino a casa: Coming Home on the Day of the Dead.” Held annually for 23 years, this has become the largest Day of the Dead exhibition in the United States. This year there will be 12 altars or ofrendas, by 20 artists, including a special ofrenda created for Arturo Velasquez Sr. (1915-2009) and an ofrenda created by the acclaimed author Sandra Cisneros as a tribute to her parents.

In my estimation the NMMA’s annual collection of altars to the dead offers one of Chicago’s great meditations with multiple layers of meaning, the least not being a contemplation on mortality in the season best suited for it. The exhibit runs through December 13. Try to visit it around All Hallow’s Eve, when it is said that veil between realities grows thin, that the living and the dead might commune.

Before leaving the Pilsen neighborhood have a meal at Neuvo Leon, the classic neighborhood restaurant at 1515 West 18^th Street.There's nothing like a savory meal after confronting motality to affirm Life and living.

Disrespecting Elders

I woke up this morning to a short commentary by Rush Limbaugh in which he railed against Jimmy Carter, calling him a "national hemorrhoid.” In addition to being patently vulgar, Limbaugh once again ventured into one of his favorite realms: the ad hominem argument against the person and not the person’s policies, which is a classic fallacy in logic.

Mr. Carter, since his remarks about racism and the populist uprisings of the so-called “tea-baggers,” has taken considerable verbal abuse. His conservative critics label him the worst president of the last century, usually contrasting him with Ronald Reagan who followed.

Yet Mr. Carter has been a successful activist ex-President, perhaps the most activist of the entire American experience. He has transformed his deep personal religious beliefs (Southern Baptist based) into activism such as Habitat for Humanity. And he has progressed into an ever broader world view. (For example, he recently spoke out against world-wide oppression of women, citing his own break with his church’s traditional views of women as subservient.) In 2002 he was awarded a Nobel Peace Prize.

Moreover, Mr. Carter has noteworthy personal achievements. He served as a naval officer. He is a bona fide entrepreneur/capitalist—a successful peanut farmer. He’s personally written more than 20 books on a variety of subjects. He’s continued to reside in his rural home town of Plains, Georgia. His long marriage is a partnership with wife Rosalyn.

In my estimation Jimmy Carter is principled and moral, thoughtful and progressive. He has become a wise elder. (One of his recent books ponders the possibilities of a life’s later years.) Indeed, he is one of the international Elders gathered by Nelson Mandela.

Then, why is Mr. Carter so denigrated by hectoring conservative talk radio personalities and their minions in and out of government?

It’s a national disgrace that Mr. Carter is disrespected as a person, considering his formidable personal achievements as well as status as ex-President.

But for me there’s something even more disrespectful in all of this: a lack of respect for elder wisdom. This strikes me as yet another example of an increasing ugliness in American society that is unacceptable.

As one venturing into the elder years, I say shame on Rush Limbaugh for his vulgarity relative to Jimmy Carter, one of our society’s and one of the world’s wise elders.

Enchanted Stardust

This image provided by NASA, released Wednesday, Sept. 9, 2009, taken by the refurbished Hubble Space Telescope, shows stars bursting to life in the chaotic Carina Nebula. (NASA photo / September 9, 2009)

In my estimation there is nothing more awe-inspiring, wonder-invoking than the images provided by the Hubble Space Telescope: "Out of the stars in their flight, out of the dust of eternity have we come...sunlight and stardust mingled in time and space..." (Robert Terry Weston, c. 1960.)

Long ago, Unitarian minister Theodore Parker (c. 1840) intuited that we are "enchanted stardust."

The origin and evolution of our 13.5 billion year old universe is a great ponderable, a wellspring of Natural Religion and infinite source of religious experience. The images of the Hubble Space Telescope are primary resources of a Religion of Realities.

Making Peace 40 Years Later

Noodling around my local Dollar Store, I found a book that haunts me, Last Night I Dreamed of Peace: The Diary of Dang Thuy Tram. In April 1968, when this diary began, Thuy was a 25 year old doctor in a North Vietnamese battle field hospital. In June 1970 the diary ends. Dr. Thuy was killed by a bullet to the forehead by South Vietnamese troops. (See the 2006 New York Times article for the remarkable story of The Diary and Dr. Thuy.)

Thuy's diary was surreptitiously saved (against general orders) by an American soldier who held on to it through 2005. Within a few months of resurfacing it was published in Vietnam and became an extraordinary best seller. It was subsequently translated and published in a 2007 American edition. Obviously its American press run exceeded demand, since I bought a remaindered first edition for a buck only 2 years after publication.

I hadn't heard Thuy Tram's poignant diary, which has been inevitably compared to Anne Frank's rescued words.

In my estimation there's no surprise that the Diary of Dang Thuy Tram languished in the American literary marketplace. It relates the Vietnam War from the perspective of the once-enemy. Perhaps, 40 years later, we don't want to remember. Or more likely we don't want to engage in the humbling process of truth and reconciliation, when we listen without argument and seek to empathize with those who'd been victimized.; and we do so for the sake of justice and peace.

I remember, once again, Santayana's counsel: "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

Redemption and Character

Ted Kennedy’s death results inevitably in a review of his life—origins and influences, early behavior, and a long public run that rendered him the Lion of the Senate. I reflect on two significant aspects of Mr. Kennedy's life: redemption and character.

There is no denying Mr. Kennedy’s failures and shortcomings that seem rooted in his family’s privilege and ambition. (The family fortune had dubious sources and the patriarch father’s legendary immorality set a bad example.)

Mr. Kennedy bounced from boarding school to boarding school. Harvard expelled him for cheating. As a young senator, he walked away from a tragic accident that resulted in the death of an attractive young woman. By credible anecdotal accounts he long remained an alcoholic and womanizer.

Yet after his unsuccessful insurgent run for president against Jimmy Carter in 1980, Mr. Kennedy was a diligent senator who mastered procedure and reached across the aisle to work/compromise with the opposition party. He was an effective legislator and a leader of the political progressives. Jessie Jackson has judged him “the tallest tree” in the forest of civil rights.

After a much publicized divorce, he settled into a later life marriage that appeared harmonious. (The straight-laced Orrin Hatch was compelled to write a song, "Souls Along the Way," about Teddy and wife Vicky.) For the family he became beloved and revered "Uncle Teddy." Publicly he was considerate, congenial, and charming.

I struggle with my estimation of Ted Kennedy—the balance of his 77 years. My struggle relates to redemption—the cheap grace that so many seek after committing egregious acts. But I also recognize that an examined life can have a positive moral arc, an arc that bends toward better and better character. (Maybe Chappaquiddick and equivalent behavior in Mr. Kennedy’s midlife caused him to reflect and as a result he changed his moral trajectory. Here you might review his 1969 speech regarding Chappaquddick, judged by some to be among the hundred best.)

In the end I affirm that every human life is best understood as a work in progress—a continuing process of examination and adjustment. The moral arc of a life ought to bend toward goodness. Let this be the standard of redemption and character.

Science and Religion, A Rapproachement?

[On Sunday, The New York Times published an article by Robert Wright,“A Grand Bargain Over Evolution." Today, Wednesday, the letters to the editor have half a dozen responses, indicating a lively interest in the contemporary debate. I was late in sending in my letter/response. Here it is.]

Robert Wright’s appeal for a mutual appreciation by Science and Religion has two thick threads: 1) natural selection (evolution or Darwinism) is compatible with a traditional religious outlook that posits God; and 2) a “higher purpose” may be discerned, even by Scientists, as working through nature. For the sake of a greater good, including “world peace,” Mr. Wright calls for rapproachement between the two sides, because there is a significant area of agreement.

I’m pleased that the NY Times publishes such quality discourse. But I find myself arguing with Mr. Wright’s contentions in two significant dimensions.

As a minister who’s sought to heed the revolutionary insight of contemporary science, particularly evolutionary biology and neuroscience, I’ve concluded that in every instance Science trumps Religion. At the very least, Science explains better than ever, if not for the first time, the roots and branches of Religious thinking. Second, there’s a self-serving tendency of Religion to impose an anthropic principle, that human kind is somehow the goal of Nature, an expression of a “higher purpose.”

Mr. Wright’s “grand bargain” strikes me as something of a “half-way covenant.” He finds the story of natural selection compelling but wants to keep the valuable social constructs of religion viable. His “grand bargain” strikes me as no bargain for either side.

I say, let the empirical insights of Science prevail, and let Religion adapt to progressing truths.

In my estimation this is the “more evolved religion” drawing on “an awe inspiring story” Mr. Wright anticipates.

WWJD: Health Care Reform and the Golden Rule

At the Michael Vick/Philadelphia Eagles press conference on August 14, Tony Dungy related that when he first visited MV at Leavenworth, he asked him, “Where was the Lord in all this?”

This set me thinking. Relative to the health care reform debate, “Where is the Lord in all this?”

There has been scant reference to the culture’s dominant Christian ethic from either side of the debate. More to the point, relative to health care reform, WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?

As one who monitors religion and American culture, the absence of Christian ethics in the health care reform debate is resounding, especially in light of a relatively recent rave to wear bracelets inscribed with WWJD—WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?

President Obama, by posing this question, would significantly challenge the anti-reform protestors. Mr. Obama could once again reference the Golden Rule, his favorite ethical rubric.

Christians have long associated the Golden Rule with Jesus’ teachings as well as with Jewish scripture. Luke summarizes Jesus’ proclamation also referenced in Matthew: “And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.” (Seniors who enjoy Medicare might find insight here.)

There are other relevant Christian reference points, too: feeding the multitudes at the Mount; the declaration that “whatever you neglect to do unto one of these, you neglect to do to me;” healing the sick; and even raising the dead, begin an easy list of Jesus’ acts of charity.

In my estimation, at heart, Mr. Obama has time and again revealed himself as a Christian moralist who preaches egalitarianism rather than as a power-craving socialist. He has frequently cited the Golden Rule as a standard for personal behavior and for achieving social justice.

When confronted with responding to the question WHAT WOULD JESUS DO, could the opposition to health care reform persuade a Christian majority that Jesus would have sided with the big insurance or pharmaceutical companies, or have denied coverage to those with pre-existing conditions, or excluded undocumented aliens from coverage, or favored seniors at the expense of the larger population or favored the larger population over seniors, or favored men over women or vice versa…? That would be a hard, if not impossible, sell.

Dominic Crossan, a leading scholar of the Jesus Seminar, has argued persuasively that the historic Jesus was essentially an egalitarian who favored no one group over any other group. Logically, universal health care would be the moral result of applied Christian egalitarianism, where all are treated equally and each respected individually.

This is my modest proposal: Mr. Obama, recast your health care reform initiative. Call it henceforth “Golden Rule Health Care—An Egalitarian Solution.” The Christian majority could claim the Golden Rule as expressing Jesus’ ethic, while a larger community could cite the Golden Rule as a universal principle found throughout world religions and philosophies. And no one would dare speak against social egalitarianism, at least in the sense that "all men are created equal" with natural rights of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness

Such a recasting of health care reform would fit Mr.Obama’s criterion that faith or belief inform public policy only by appealing to universal principles. In Mr. Obama’s own estimation there is no more universal principle than the Golden Rule.

God and Evolution at the National Institutes of Health

Sam Harris, a prominent "strong" atheist, recently questioned the appointment of Francis Collins to head the National Institutes of Health.

Mr. Harris wrote, ironically: "It would seem a brilliant choice. Dr. Collins’s credentials are impeccable: he is a physical chemist, a medical geneticist and the former head of the Human Genome Project. He is also, by his own account, living proof that there is no conflict between science and religion. In 2006, he published 'The Language of God,' in which he claimed to demonstrate 'a consistent and profoundly satisfying harmony' between 21st-century science and evangelical Christianity."

However, Mr. Harris used Dr. Collins's own words to demonstrate disturbing inconsistencies. For example, Dr. Collins flip-flopped in asserting when God stands inside Nature and when God stands outside Nature. Mr. Harris also insinuated that Dr. Collins helps foster an epidemic of scientific ignorance by inserting God's intervention in the midst of evolution.

In my estimation Mr.Harris's article raises a variety of issues, including the contentious relationship between Science and Religion and first ammendment rights regarding freedom of religion (as it relates to public policy and an implicit religious test for office).

Was Barack Obama'a July, 2009 appoinment of Dr. Collins a stroke of brilliance--a bridge across the abyss of the culture war?

The Elders Speak: Woman's Equality

Nelson Mandela has organized an independent group of world leaders called The Elders. They advocate peace building, address human suffering, and promote the shared interests of humanity. Among their ranks is Jimmy Carter.

This week, as a representative of The Elders, Mr. Carter published a declaration in the Guardian criticizing all religious outlooks that reduce women to a second class status. He wrote of his own break in 2000 with the Southern Baptist Convention, after a sixty year relationship: "It was ... an unavoidable decision when the convention's leaders, quoting a few carefully selected Bible verses and claiming that Eve was created second to Adam and was responsible for original sin, ordained that women must be 'subservient' to their husbands and prohibited from serving as deacons, pastors or chaplains in the military service. This was in conflict with my belief - confirmed in the holy scriptures - that we are all equal in the eyes of God"

Mr. Carter lifted up The Elders' clear call for sexual equality: "The justification of discrimination against women and girls on grounds of religion or tradition, as if it were prescribed by a Higher Authority, is unacceptable."

In my estimation this pronouncement fits into a larger issue of religion and civilization. Religion in various manifestations bears considerable responsibility for the historic and continuing subjugation of women. Is then the beneficent, global, yet nevertheless religious outlook of The Elders enough to reform deep and continuing forms of religious abuse? Is religion the answer to the problem it helped create? In this regard pundits are asking, why did it take Mr. Carter sixty years to break with the Southern Baptists in this matter?

Michael Jackson's Memorial

Tuesday, I viewed MJ’s memorial in my office on a computer—via the CNN website that offered streaming video side-by-side with scrolling Facebook comments from across the country and around the world.

The snippet comments added a weird dimension to an already weird phenomenon—the death of a weird mega-celebrity. (Weird was the chosen word of commentators who wanted to insinuate MJ’s real-life personality yet not deal with the unsavory allegations.)

We’ve seen live, media-event memorials on TV before: notably Princess’s Di’s and Ronald Reagan’s. But the website business took the evolving experience to a new place.

I’m a student of death practices and rituals. I’ve literally written the book for UU observances.

So, MJ’s public memorial riveted my attention. First, it became a funeral when the Jackson brothers—each wearing the same suit festooned with matching yellow tie and red lapel rose, with a signature sequined glove on the left hand—escorted the casket into the arena and positioned it in a bed of flowers at the foot of center stage. The coffin was gilded gold—custom fabricated by the Batesville Casket Company, Batesville IN. Some disputed that the body was really in the casket. The casket’s presence was enough to wring extra emotion from the performers.

Scant formal religion marked the moment. (Some said MJ before his death had been on a personal journey toward Islam.) Nevertheless, several speakers alluded to MJ going through Christ-like suffering—performing, if not dying, for our sins. The Maya Angelou poem, read by Queen Latifah, in particular, referenced Christ’s life with Michael’s.

On the CNN website, after an hour the Facebook posters began to ask, “Is this going to end?” The program lasted two hours, a bit long perhaps, but, for my sensibilities, it moved spiritedly from performer to performer. The spoken tributes were relatively brief and to the point.

In total, the memorial clearly belonged to the category of “black” funeral. A learned commentator Melissa Harris-Lacewell of Princeton, in a Tribune oped, identified the elements that resonated to the black experience in America:

“African-American death rituals have long been celebratory as well as mournful. As a marginal people whose collective identity is rooted in struggle, death is celebrated as a release from pain, inequality and torment. As a deeply religious people, death is celebrated as an opportunity for reunion with God. As a people who were often denied dignity in life, the dignity of a proper "home-going" is a critically important sign of respect. Along with these celebratory aspects of funerals, death rituals among African-Americans are marked by loud, deep displays of emotion and public grieving that mark the sense of loss experienced by the whole community.”

When all the performers had left the stage and the memorial seemed over, the Jackson family stood in the spotlight before a single microphone. At the literal end an eleven year old girl presented the perfect note of humanity. MJ’s daughter Paris, spoke through tears: “I just want to say ever since I was born, Daddy was the best father you can ever imagine. And I just want to say I love him so much.”

All things considered, the actual memorial service seemed relatively restrained and respectful, in keeping with the obvious desire to accentuate the positive and downplay the negative. The African American community embraced MJ’s blackness. The well-orchestrated extravaganza offered a window into the black experience/community.

How would I have framed a memorial service for MJ? I would have been compelled to offer a moral lesson or lessons. (The Unitarian way is heir to a Puritan tradition that admonishes the hearer to be forewarned, if only about the indelible preciousness of life.) In this regard a human life in death offers at least one lesson for survivors. MJ's life offers a quagmire of moral lessons. And they’re not all negative, though the weight is on the negative side of the scale.

In the end I’d affirm that a human life, however flawed, is sacred.

And I’d affirm Ellie’s refrain after we visited the Jackson Family’s Gary Home on Sunday: “He was just a kid, once.”

Realityland: Michael Jackson's Boyhood Home

At the turn of the century, Gary, Indiana had the moniker of the White City. Its sandy beaches sparkled at the bottom of Lake Michigan and the new phenomenon of electric lights spangled the night. Named after a US Steel executive, the White City became the Miracle City, the Heartland home of Big Steel. Gary prospered through the 1960s, when the industry foundered and white flight took half the population to suburbs south of the city.

Broadway Avenue runs south from the still functioning US Steel Works on the Lake, a wide swath of macadam lined with derelict buildings waiting to be demolished and mostly boarded up businesses. Decay renders poverty palpable.

Evenly spaced avenues demarcate Broadway Avenue. They reach into neighborhoods of post war bungalows with postage stamp front lawns—the stuff that the American dream was once made of. The contemporary residences appear more abandoned than not. An imaginative mind imposes what was onto what is. Sadness swells and anger/shame disturbs the conscience, unsettling like thunder in the distance.

Count the avenues ascending from the Lake. At 23rd Avenue turn right or west. In a few blocks, at the corner of 23rd and Jackson Street, stop. Here’s the Jackson Family Home, where the Jacksons lived through 1968.

Here the properties share a similarly sized patch of front yard, each house set back the same distance from the street. The back yard is a mere strip. The original steel worker owners had the front-facing illusion of prosperity that property represents.

Unlike the adjacent house with boarded windows and wild lawn plus a host of other forlorn houses in the neighborhood, the square Jackson Family Home, one level with horizontal siding and a roof pitched to the center, though shabby, at least looks inhabited. The Jackson Family Home’s front yard is carpeted with grass turned dun by the feet of pilgrims who’ve paid homage to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. He lived here through his first eleven years. How could nine children and parents have squeezed into such a small space?

For now it’s the setting of a makeshift shrine behind a thin band of yellow crime scene tape, imprinted “do not cross.” Stuffed toys, convenience store flowers in cellophane sleeves, home drawn posters, American flags and of other countries, too, mylar balloons, and bodega candles tumble together in spontaneous order.

Across the street a few vendors have set up tables and canopies. Michael Jackson music plays. The tee shirts and posters portray either the young or the thirtyish Michael Jackson of “Ben” or “Billie Jean.” There are no recent images.

It’s late on the Sunday afternoon following Michael Jackson’s death. The hundred-some pilgrims respect one another’s camera space. Everyone wants to digitally document the moment—an early summer moment strangely raw from unexpected death and for me, at least, strangely raw from Gary’s decrepitude.

After a week of media-hype (“’Neverland’ and more”), the Jackson Family Home provides a welcome corrective. Call it “Realityland.”

“Realityland” surely isn’t a cipher for boys who won’t grow up. Quite the opposite. It’s about a hard truth: change, what the old poet called mutability. And change breaks the heart, especially Life’s greatest change, death, the reality hurtling toward everyone. (Every death presages our own.)

The King of Pop is dead. That Michael Jackson has been figuratively dead for quite a while, two decades or so, the iconic star that fans mourn in resonance to their own days-gone-by.

Could there be a better place to materialize America’s “Realityland,” to observe the change of cities and families and pop icons and self, than the corner of 23rd Avenue and Jackson Avenue in Gary, Indiana?

Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson. What to make of him?

Is he a cultural icon—a transformative figure, the King of Pop, who had a gentle soul and a good heart, who paved the pay way for Oprah and Barack Obama?

Or was he a tormented man-child distorted by parental physical and emotional abuse—the denizen of an aptly named Neverland who publicly asserted that sleeping with children (only boys, in fact) was a loving thing and that’s what the world needs is more love?

How should his life-in-death be observed?

In my estimation certain aspects of a person’s life outweigh other aspects. (For example, John McCain’s treatment of his first wife, following his return to America and her disfiguring accident, for me, cast a shadow on his overall character; and he made a campaign issue of his character.) For Michael Jackson the shadow on his character is pedophilia. The narrative arc of his fifty years appears to have bent in that direction, from the "island of lost boys" implications of Neverland through his assertion that sleeping with boys was a good thing.

At a wedding reception, I once had a casual conversation with a woman who had been a Norridge neighbor of John Wayne Gacy, the notorious serial killer who buried his victims in the crawl space of his modest home. She declared, enthusiastically, “He was a really good neighbor.” Was that declaration a kind of compensation; was it a non sequitor; was it implicit musing?

Is it like saying, “Michael Jackson slept with young boys, but then again he really could dance?”

Certain social issues are too big not to confront. Pedophilia is one. In Michael Jackson's life it can't be discounted, certainly not ignored.

Faith Should Bring Us Together

On June 4, at the University of Cairo, President Barack Obama delivered a much anticipated speech directed to Islam generally and the Arab world more specifically. His words were carefully phrased, respectful, with touchstones for Muslims and Arabs. He packed a number of issues/concerns into a speech less than 6,000 words long.

He spoke forthrightly about the crucial related issues of the Middle East, including the State of Israel and the plight of displaced Palestinians.

He lifted American values, including freedom (touching upon women's rights) and democracy.

As a keysotone to his persuasive rhetoric, President Obama invoked the commonality of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam as Abrahamic religions through the story of Isra from the Muslim tradition, "when Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed (peace be upon them) joined in prayer."

President Obama once again alluded to the Golden Rule saying "There is also one rule that lies at the heart of every religion - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. This truth transcends nations and peoples - a belief that isn't new; that isn't black or white or brown; that isn't Christian, or Muslim or Jew. It's a belief that pulsed in the cradle of civilization, and that still beats in the heart of billions. It's a faith in other people, and it's what brought me here today."

In my estimation, in this speech, President Obama offered a global vision of the role of religion for nations and faiths. This vision included mutual religious freedom and tolerance. Diversity must be upheld and therefore diversity is good. And interfaith dialogue, it is presumed, will find common ground and universal principles (such as the Golden Rule).

As President Obama declared in his Cairo speech, "Indeed, faith should bring us together."

Testing Your Moral Sense

I've been blogging now and again about an innate moral sense, made up of "five colors:" do no harm, fairness, community, authority, and purity.

In an op-ed piece in today's New York Times Nicholas Kristof highlights the differences between conservatives and liberals in terms of which of these intuitions (colors) are emphasized by the respective groups. The conventional wisdom is that conservatives give each of the five moral intuitions similar emphasis, while liberals emphasize do no harm and fairness.

In my estimation, if you want to verify this innate moral sense, take an Internet quiz at www.yourmorals.org.

Barack Obama's Bully Pulpit

Much was made of President Obama's remarks regarding abortion at Sunday's commencement address to Notre Dame graduates.

But he also used the occasion to summarize his position on the role of faith in the public arena and in one's private affairs. (Previous posts on this blog have followed him in addressing such issues of faith. Below, from yesterday's speech, in bold type, are his consistent points, )

"In this world of competing claims about what is right and what is true, have confidence in the values with which you've been raised and educated. Be unafraid to speak your mind when those values are at stake. Hold firm to your faith and allow it to guide you on your journey. Stand as a lighthouse.

"But remember too that the ultimate irony of faith is that it necessarily admits doubt. It is the belief in things not seen. It is beyond our capacity as human beings to know with certainty what God has planned for us or what He asks of us, and those of us who believe must trust that His wisdom is greater than our own.

"This doubt should not push us away from our faith. But it should humble us. It should temper our passions, and cause us to be wary of self-righteousness. It should compel us to remain open, and curious, and eager to continue the moral and spiritual debate that began for so many of you within the walls of Notre Dame. And within our vast democracy, this doubt should remind us to persuade through reason, through an appeal whenever we can to universal rather than parochial principles, and most of all through an abiding example of good works, charity, kindness, and service that moves hearts and minds.

"For if there is one law that we can be most certain of, it is the law that binds people of all faiths and no faith together. It is no coincidence that it exists in Christianity and Judaism; in Islam and Hinduism; in Buddhism and humanism. It is, of course, the Golden Rule - the call to treat one another as we wish to be treated. The call to love. To serve. To do what we can to make a difference in the lives of those with whom we share the same brief moment on this Earth."

In my estimation Mr. Obama continues to present, from his bully pulpit as President, a powerful call to faith--not so much the particulars as an approach. He has, without abandoning the heart of faith rooted in traditional religion, assumed higher ground where tolerance blends into universal values and where reasonable doubt transforms into humility. He is the voice of a liberal and pluralistic religious way in a secular society.

Holier Than Thou

An article in today's NY Times "Science Times" looks at the "self inflating bias" that distorts our actual behavior, especially regarding moral and ethical actions. In a nutshell, we see our own behavior as more virtuous than it really is.

Religion can temper this "self inflating bias" by stressing humility. And then religion can lead to heightened self-righteousness and implicit hypocrisy.

In my estimation anyone who cares about her/his chararacter, who seeks to live a moral life, should reflect on the common phenomenon that cuts two ways: underestimating the moral behavior of others and overestimating one's own behavior

Animal Rights: An Ethical Frontier

Nicholas D. Kristof in today’s New York Times op-ed article “Humanity Even for Nonhumans,” offers a capsule summary of the contemporary Animal Rights Movement—its seeming origin with the work of ethicist Peter Singer in the early 1970s to its recent impulses, such as Spain granting basic legal rights to apes. Mr. Kristof concludes: “animal rights are now firmly on the mainstream ethical agenda.”

In my estimation Animal Rights, with the moral imperative not to inflict suffering and expanding into a Reverence for All Life, is a worthy meditation on the human condition. Is a human being of (embedded in) Nature? Or is a human being above (transcendent of) Nature?

My quote collection, In Praise of Animals, through a variety of voices explores the relationship between humankind and the rest of the animal kingdom, including the ethical dimension. To help the reader navigate the collection I’ve put together a reader's guide.

Morality, Evolution, and Religion

The op-ed columnist David Brooks has a good piece on morality, "The End of Philosophy," in today's New York Times. He draws from contemporary science's finding about morality being embedded in our species long evolutionary history, but emphasizes that morality is as much about cooperation as it is about competition.

He concludes with a statement/challenge regarding the scientists who study morality: "They’re good at explaining how people make judgments about harm and fairness, but they still struggle to explain the feelings of awe, transcendence, patriotism, joy and self-sacrifice, which are not ancillary to most people’s moral experiences, but central. The evolutionary approach also leads many scientists to neglect the concept of individual responsibility and makes it hard for them to appreciate that most people struggle toward goodness, not as a means, but as an end in itself."

In my estimation Mr. Brooks is among a handful of popular voices who seek to bridge contemporary science's knowledge and religion's traditional values. I don't always agree with him; but I respect him, because he acknowledge's the writing on the wall. In today's column he accepts the "evolutionary approach to morality" that contemporary science offers.

Bittersweet Days of Mellow October: A Lament

"Bittersweet Days" rememembers that the original vines that grow on the outfield walls of Wrigley Field were purchased and planted by Bill Veeck, Jr. in September 1937. Veeck strung bittersweet from the bottom of the wall to the top, then planted ivy at the base. The ivy prospered, but like days gone by, the bittersweet is no more.

Bittersweet, with its October bursting fruit, is an ironic metaphor for the century long absence of a World Series in Wrigley Field.

A lament is a song or poem of regret or mourning. The Book of Psalms has several laments. This lament for the Chicago Cubs Professional Baseball Team grieves and remembers a hundred years of futility. No other poetic form can speak to the despair generations of Cubs' fans have endured.

Read aloud "Bittersweet Days of Mellow October" with pained passion and possibly a rending of team garments. Uttered by enough fans, perhaps 2009 will be the year Fate turns.

O, Bittersweet Days of Mellow October,
paint Veeck’s ivy red and gold.

Haunt the gloamin’ with Gabby’s homer
ever-arching into twilight;

Stir memories of heroes whose diamond deeds
hallow honored names:

Tinkers, Evers, and Chance;

Jolly Cholly and Hack;

Santo, Banks, and Williams;

Hawk and Ryno;

And a host of others—

Men playing a boys’ game for the sake
of the youth in us all.

Season heaped upon season—
April sowed October disappointment.

Yet our heroes did not fail us.

Where Waveland and Sheffield meet,
They gave us the timeless summer—
long-shadowed afternoons, each its little eternity.

“Let’s play two!”

O, Bittersweet Days of Mellow October,
sound from brick walls echoes of games-gone-by.

Blend faded cheers with yesterday’s voices—
Jack and Lou and Harry: “Hey, Hey!” and “Holy Cow!”

O, Bittersweet Days, the veil between realities
grows thin and ragged.

Through time’s momentary breach, banish forever the curse
of the Billy Goat.

O, Mellow October, grace the Heartland
with a long-awaited harvest.

Bring a World Series to ivy covered walls.

And when the games have ended and a championship won,

May it be that high atop the scoreboard
a white flag with a blue W snaps to autumn’s cleansing winds,
waving bold and glad and proud against sculling clouds
and grand towers and aching years of unrequited desire.

A Secular Religion of Social Consciousness?

Frank Rich, in yesterdays New York Times, wrote a provocative op-ed piece about the waning of the so-called culture wars. ("The Culture Warriors Get Laid Off.") He drew parallels between the 1930s' New Deal politics of FDR and 2009's actions by Barack Obama: "Once again, both president and the country are following New-Deal era precedent." The precedent was a retreat of the churches in personal lives and cultural influence and a sort of secular religion of social consciousness emerged.

Mr. Rich sees a continuing decline in the influence of religion and boldy asserts: "...Obama has far more moral authority than any religious leader in America with the possible exception of his sometime ally, the Rev. Rick Warren."

And, pulling no punches Mr. Rich concludes, " History is cyclical, and it would be foolhardy to assume that the culture wars will never return. But after the humiliations of the Scopes trial and the repeal of Prohibition, it did take a good four decades for the religious right to begin its comeback in the 1970s. In our tough times, when any happy news can be counted as a miracle, a 40-year exodus for these ayatollahs can pass for an answer to America’s prayers."

In my estimation Mr. Rich's remarks point to an ever-more-apparent shift, as well as that shift's consequences, regarding religion and the American experience.

I'm starting to ponder what will be the new "secular" religion, if "secular" religion isn't oxymoronic. Will it be a contemporary form of the 1930s social consciousness?