A New Year Resolution

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bowlines.  Sail away from the safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore. Dream. Discover."

-- Mark Twain

Had I not tried out for high school football, I would have not learned the humiliation of having my 135 pound ass handed to me, repeatedly, by 220 pound lineman during scrimmage.  Had I run to Canada to avoid the draft during Nam, I would not have learned to be a supervisor, manager, and leader of a marvelous cadre of military men and women protecting the greatest country in the world.  Had I not taken the offered position with Air Force Intelligence, I would have not learned to "think outside the box."  Had I not been a "Jack of all trades, master of none," I would not have enjoyed the many different positions with the company I worked for after military retirement.  Had I not moved to Mexico, I would have missed another experience of a lifetime.  Had I not returned, I would have missed saying goodbye to my friends from work, before they left.

With everything I have done in my life I am still disappointed by those things I didn't do; the "bucket list" of items that may never come to fruition.  I live a bit vicariously, now, through my son as I see pictures he posts of lobster diving, visiting foreign lands, eating cultural foods, cooking his own culinary delights, and so on.  Yet, for me, the adventure is far from over.  I have the current Country Club project, ordination as a minister, my blog, plans to retire (again) to Mississippi at age 62, and heaven only knows what will follow after that.

I would like to volunteer time with a university to dig dinosaurs in the deserts of the southwest; I love the desert and the heat.  I would like to be a cook on a fishing boat, or for a logging camp.  I would like to mine for gold, silver or gemstones.  I would like to do a few months in Antarctica.  I would like to open a small sidewalk bistro serving soups, sandwiches, and strong "fifty cent" coffee from a large pot.  Since the aches and pains seem to stay longer now days, sky diving and dirt bikes are out.  My vision limits or prohibits many other desires for adventure, as it always has.  No scuba diving, firefighting, sniper school or combat, and my visit to Antarctica will probably freeze my contacts to my eyeballs.  But, one can always go along to help those that can,  and I can always dream of doing it myself 

Everything you do in life, no matter how small or insignificant it seems at the time, can be life altering if you let it.  Open your mind this coming year; be daring, take a chance occasionally, and consider the possibilities.  Like Mark Twain says, "Explore.  Dream.  Discover."  Do it alone or, better yet, with a friend.  Or, even better, with friends and family!

If you resolve to do anything this coming year, be more than you are.  Find a path that you can travel, and determine the destination remembering that what you do along the way has a great bearing on where you end up.  In discovering your path and undertaking the journey you just may find out who you are, and who you are is so much more important than any New Year resolutions.

I resolve to continue to post my thoughts; to continue along this path I have before me, enjoying every day of new discovery and danger; to love, and care, and try to understand and comprehend; to search for God, in everything!  

I would resolve to be less of a sinner, but I fear this resolution would make me more of a liar than a saint.  I resolve, then, to be more spiritual and thoughtful; to be ever mindful of the religious hypocrites around me; to never forget that, like the Pope Francis, I freely admit I am a sinner and, with this one admission, the Pope and I see eye to eye on many things.   

A Worldwide Congregation

Since I founded this Congregation for Religious Tolerance, back in June of this year, the Congregation blog, The Path, has enjoyed over 5800 page views from folks all over the world.  I have linked the blog to Google Translate in an effort to get a message across the language barrier, realizing that Google Translate seems to process on a "crap in, crap out" system that defaults to "good in, crap out" on many occasions.  It is the best I can do with the very limited tech knowledge I have, however, my apologies.

 

The intent of the blog is not to convince or preach.  It is not intended to be argumentative.  Many people lash out with rebuttal, good and bad, yet they have no path of their own.  They seem to be content to sit on a log to the side and comment on how everyone else is traveling their own, personal, path.  This blog is my path.  It is a compilation of thoughts that come to me in the wee hours of the morning.  They are my thoughts about things happening along my path.  My hope is that it will excite you to think for yourself, to ask yourself where you might stand on an offered subject and, if it strikes a chord, to comment back with your own opinion.  Your thoughts assist me as much as I hope my thought will assist you, along your chosen path.  You just might find you're heading the wrong way.  If we can't have constructive conversation we doom ourselves as a people to becoming interpersonally inept and impotent, like the  United Nations or the United States Congress (God forbid).

 

I have received many positive e-mails about my posts, some critical, some with differing views, but all with the right intent.  They were all thinking.  I have other bloggers that follow my posts as well, and a couple of these have asked if I would address specific topics for their readers.  Just this morning I was invited by a fellow minister of the Monastery to join one of his groups where he thought my humble opinions might garner discussion.  A lamb to the slaughter?  I hesitate to think of myself as "fresh meat" but it may be a nice detour on my path.  

 

As always, I invite everyone to comment on what I write using the comment link at the bottom of each post.  For more private comments, and to submit guest posts,  feel free to email me at ulcpastor0@gmail.com.  I will not post anything you write without consulting you first.  Also, please add the address of The Path, www.congregationforreligioustolerance.blogspot.com,  to your favorites and come back to visit often.  I advise you to put it in your favorites because, well, who would want to type that much?  This is the address from hell.  I have to retype it myself half the time due to errors in my "hunt and peck" system of typing.

 

Google Blogger also seems limited in the availability of viewer data it allows access to, whether that is a limitation of the program, or a business philosophy, I have no idea.  Sometimes I get the feeling the numbers are skewed by so many factors.  Having said all this, I have no real idea if 5800 people have actually visited my blog, of if these are marketing scans and a handful of warm bodies actually visit to read the material.  Regardless, I have listed the countries that "viewers" have visited from, according to the data provided.  The top eight are regulars to the site. 

Listed by volume of hits:

 

U.S .                        

RUSSIA                
S. KOREA            
GERMANY          
UKRAINE            
U.K.                         
MALAYSIA          
INDONESIA        
FRANCE             
CANADA             
AUSTRALIA        
ECUADOR          
Cote d’Ivoire     
CHINA                  
COLOMBIA        
JAPAN                 
BRAZIL                 
SINGAPORE       
SPAIN                  
U.A.E.                      
ISRAEL                 
POLAND              
VENEZUELA       
NETHERLANDS 

Sunday Thought - December 29, 2013: A Calm Before the Storm

"Great events make me quiet and calm; it is only trifles that irritate my nerves."        --  Queen Alexandrina Victoria

It’s the calm before the storm, this feeling of something about to go horribly wrong.

The feeling you get as you stand a military watch, listening to the crickets and the birds, the bees doing their slow inventory of each blossom.  You light your cigarette and watch the tip glow red as you take the first full drag of smoke and notice the sound of nature has decreased to that of a solitary cricket chirping.  That cricket also stops and your mind registers the total silence with a feeling of water instantly turning to ice somewhere in the back recesses of your brain.  You can almost hear the ice crack and splinter as it forms.  Your eyes look up from the glowing embers of tobacco as the short hairs on the back of your neck begin to rise.  You continue to hold the smoke in your lungs, afraid to let it out and give your position away even though you've presented yourself as an obvious target. Slowly your hand moves down to the safety switch on your weapon.  There is an audible click as you flip it to the off position; it makes you wince in the surrounding silence as your mind transforms the otherwise small sound into the loud reverberating crack of a thick branch being snapped, a sound that seems to echo forever before it finally fades.  There is an immediate self-admonishment that you should have peed when you had the chance.  A light breeze from behind brings the smell urine and stale sweat.  Your lungs scream for a breath so you close your eyes and slowly exhale the smoke as your mind processes acknowledgment of a fact, and a mistake; the stale sweat and urine isn’t yours, and you’re facing the wrong direction.

A roll of thunder sounds like a distant klaxon; a gentle warning that danger is upon you.

There is no point to the story; or is there?  Can a person find a moment for quiet and calm amidst the unfolding of "great events?"  Is quiet and calm necessarily a good thing?  Can we see how "trifles" might be an irritant to one's nerves?  And what if, upon recognizing all of this, we find ourselves headed down the wrong path, facing the wrong direction, with danger coming from behind? 

I would say this is anybody's life.  Maybe not day to day, but I think we all can identify with the person standing watch.  We all have that inner guard, out at the perimeter, standing watch.  It makes you feel safer when you aren't alone.  I think this is why we bond with friends, why we couple up and have family.  It is even harder when you're out on your own, on the streets.  You can become hardened, distrustful, and suspicious.

I have met folks like this, most recently at our breakfasts for those in need on Saturdays.  I look on it as a sad reality.  I think it would be a waste of time to try and change their attitude, and I think it would be a mistake until they can change their circumstance.  Their attitude is for survival in a harsh environment of outdoor living, social condemnation, and survival of the fittest.

What is your opinion of the "soldier" standing watch?  Do we assume this person was a soldier?  Or, could this person just be homeless, with a rifle or handgun for protection.  For that matter, this could be a wealthy rancher out riding the fence on the "north pasture" for a couple of days as he checks his property.  It could be anybody.  It could be real, or it could be all in our mind as we find our "inner guard" getting a bit too comfortable.

Is there a point to the story?  I don't know.  It just came to me while I was sitting here, my "thought" for Sunday. 

By the way, did you know Queen Victoria's first name was Alexandrina?  Hell, I didn't even know Victoria was her last name!  Silly Brits...

Have a marvelous Sunday, and may God bless.

It Bears Repeating

 

Originally posted as, Thought for Sunday September 29, 2013

 

I go back occasionally and see a post that maybe didn't get recognition for one reason or another.  Many times these seem to be posts in my Thought for Sunday series.  I have to admit that I would also have issues with a post in this series, misunderstood as I think it is.  The intent of the Thought for Sunday series is to use the day for introspection.  I stated for the onset I would not preach.  This also means I will not bore you with sermon.  I think maybe the title throws people off.  I do recognize Sunday as a day of rest, however.  I think this is a perfect day to relax, shed inhibitions, try something new, or something old or forgotten.  This is the time to pour a cup of coffee and think about your personal path;  where you've been, where you're going, how you're getting there, and the people whose lives you've affected.  I welcome your own stories for the Thought for Sunday series.  What is in your heart?

 

I haven't been myself of late.  I have been worried about people in my life.  It's the psychic part of me that sets off an annoying "little buzzer" until I pay attention.  It could be nothing.  I have one egotistical trait, however, and, more times than not, it isn't a good one -- I hate always being right.

 

People have lost the ability to listen to their little buzzer.  We all have it, most of us have relegated it to a back closet in our minds and forgotten about it.  I think the atheists would probably find a scientific explanation for it, like, blind luck.  After all, if it can't be proven it doesn't exist.

 

I was concerned about my girlfriend in Mexico.  I had a dream that bothered me about her.  I found out the other day they have a Dengue Fever outbreak in town and several people have already died, including a teenager that worked on her ranch.  He was sick on Sunday so she took him home.  He died by Thursday.

 

This ability is fun when you use it for analysis of Intelligence information to come up with a "best guess" estimate of a situation or possible outcome, not so much when it concerns loved ones.  If I was able to take the percentage I was correct in the military and utilize it in Vegas, I'd be pretty well off.  Problem is, my lion's portion of my tiny bit of talent only seems to tell me when its bad news.  This is why, "I hate always being right."

 

I have said this many times before, but it always bears repeating -- it is important to always stay in touch with those people close to you.  To show your concern, and love, by calling or stopping by to say hello.  It is one reason why I make a point to tell my friends how much they mean to me before I fly anywhere, so they know the last words I spoke to them were words of love and friendship, should anything happen to me.  Don't let your last thought of a loved one be, "I should have called."

 

Today, like every Sunday, is a great day to call those you love and just touch base.  Tell them how you feel about them, how much you miss them.  If you can, stop by and give them a big hug.  Hold them and squeeze them while you tell them.  This is something they will remember, especially if you do it always.

 

Our time on this earth is fleeting.  When we are young it seems we will live forever.  As we get older, time seems to fly by, there is never enough of it.  Family and friends are here today and gone tomorrow.  Make the most of your time with them.

 

I going to call my Dad now, see what he's up to, and tell him and Mom I love them.

 

What are you going to do?

 

I hope you all have a blessed day and a marvelous week. 

Hungry & Homeless in Olympia

Shopping List
3 gallons milk
12 pounds sausage
40 tortillas
2 pounds cheddar cheese
1 pound butter
3 dozen eggs
3 onions
4 bell peppers
10 pounds yellow potatoes
200 cups
200 plates

This is the shopping list I was given by Mama Dee of Joyful Hands Ministry.  This is a partial list of items required each week to feed those in need a hot breakfast in Olympia.  Having bought for this before, I can assume she has more onions and tortillas, as well as peanut butter, jelly and breads for all of the sandwiches to be made, rolls and biscuits to pour the gravy over, at least 200 plastic forks and spoons, and cans of ground coffee and hot chocolate.

The standard grocery list of items required to feed the many hungry that come each Saturday for breakfast in Olympia.  It does not include the "grab bags" full of energy bars, hand warming packs, fruit gummies, and such that are handed out as well.  This is just one of three meals the City of Olympia is "allowing" to collapse through their, as far as I know as of this date, inaction on promises made during two City Council meetings.  "Other locations" were mentioned as alternatives, though no specifics have been forthcoming.  Also mentioned was the name of the slacking City employee whom they assigned to let the whole thing drop.  I found it interesting they assigned this guy to let the whole thing drop after the first meeting, then they assign him to let it drop again after the second meeting.  With all the hot air and smoke being blown up everyone's ass I was sure they would open the council room doors for a breath of fresh air.  The mirrors they brought in, to go with all of the the smoke, were probably in the way.

The problem with government is they think the citizens are that stupid.  They're right, of course, but elected leaders should try not to make it look so blatantly obvious they feel that way.  I left this council meeting, as I have left many others in Olympia, feeling like the only breath of fresh air will come when the citizens of this town wise up and recognize the politicians have their number.  This same statement holds true for Washington State and the U.S. Congress.

Where was I?  Oh, yeah.

Last Saturday Dee assigned a jay-walking monitor to police the street, ensuring laws were followed.  We policed the area for trash, as she assigns each week, so the parking lot the event is held in is left as we found it.  She made announcements to all, as she does each week, adding that the police might come to close it down.  She asked that everyone remain peaceful and respectful if the police came, they would be there to talk to her so let her handle it.  Trouble was what Mama Dee doesn't need, but is reluctant to shy away from.  If she does, the needy go hungry this morning.  This scenario plays out each Thursday evening, down the street at another parking lot, where Crazy Faith Ministry will feed up to 700 people a warm dinner.

It is my understanding that many of these people can't or won't take advantage of offerings by the Salvation Army or the Gospel Mission and, at times, these two organizations have to turn people away when they run out of food for the offered meal.  I heard from one of the women staying at the shelter in town that several older men were turned away from the men's shelter for lack of room.  She said these were men whose age should prohibit them from staying outside in the cold.  What is to be done?

This is Washington State.  This is the land of the "bleeding heart liberal," and the great northwest bastion of the Democratic Party.  These are the people who got Obama elected, and then reelected.  These are the people that demand the poor be taken care of, right?  Or, is it all just kind words that go south when the programs start to affect their way of life?  From the attitude of the Olympia leadership, this sure seems to be the case.  "We're not saying you can't feed the needy, we applaud your efforts.  We're just going to change the parking lot ordinance which will, in turn, prohibit you from doing it on public property.  But, keep up the good work!"

Thank you, Mr. Mayor.

What politicians in Washington State forget is the lesson that our current President has taught us, twice.  Tax payers do not get you elected.  That 50% of the people that pay to support the other 50% aren't the ones that determine the direction of this country.  The people that get you elected, and therefore, by extension, run this country, are the people that want the handout and not the hand.  Keep the people fed, clothed, and uneducated, and you'll have a voter for life.  The illegal alien, the welfare recipient, the student, people that are out of work or have given up trying to find work, the hungry and the needy.  The people in the back of the wagon now outnumber the people pulling it!  This means our Mayor's "career low light" just clicked on.  This is a liberal city, Mr. Mayor, and the needy could give a damn about parking ordinances.

“They came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant. And then they came for me and by that time no one was left to speak up.”

--  Rev. Martin Niemoeller, a Protestant minister in Nazi Germany, in 1945

I think society is afraid of facing the real possibility of repeating history.  Shanty towns of the 1930s, or "Hoovervilles" as they were referred to, were a necessary blight in many cities.  "Hooverville" was a term created as a slam to Republicans that were blamed for the dire financial situation.  Since we are traveling down this road again, can we look forward to "Obamaville" this time?  It goes to show that totally inept, moronic, stupidity is not the sole property of any one political party, we just forget to teach political history in school now days.  Not remembering history can be viewed as the real crime a society visits upon it's young.

The 1930s and today have many similarities.  One difference, however, is the ability to work.  Notice I didn't say the desire to work.  As with the City ordnance for parking lots, so too have laws challenged the ability for Joe to pay a few bucks to have someone sweep the sidewalk in front of his shop.  Concerns like liability, minimum wage, health insurance, all play their part in limiting possibilities to better your lot.  Liability is the big one that I can remember.  Heaven forbid the man hurt himself while sweeping your steps or washing a window for a few dollars; he would own you after the courts finished making you out to be a slave driving tyrant.  This is why, even if the man holding the sign, "will work for food," really wanted to work, no intelligent person would dare hire him for fear of losing the farm.  That is just sad.  Those that would like to make a few bucks to get by can't.

This may sound like I'm a welfare advocate.  I most certainly am not.  Those the truly need it should have it.  But there are plenty that are very happy to nurse from the public teat their entire lives, milking it for all they can while the rest of us support them.  Is the half of our society being supported by the other half guilty of this?  No.  Not all of them.  But I believe the numbers will continue to climb, and be unmanageable, as long as we refuse to recognize that we have allowed them to no longer care.  Many that are pulling the welfare wagon are going to get fed up and climb on board.  What happens when the wagon stops because there aren't enough people pulling their own weight?  I have news for you, look around.

In Mexico you get a bucket, some rags, a little soap, and start washing cars on the street.  In Manzanillo they took their water from the plaza fountain to wash and rinse you vehicle.  Nobody would dare sue you if you gave them the opportunity for work, and the courts wouldn't hear the case even if they tried.  These people would wash your car, guard your car, assist you with bags when you returned from shopping, and direct traffic while you backed out of your parking spot to leave, all for around $4.00 American.  They would smile politely, and be grateful for the opportunity to be of service.  I never saw anyone holding a sign on a corner asking for a handout.  Everyone in that country was selling something.  Everyone was trying to better their lot in life.  Even the old and infirm managed a chair, or sat on the sidewalk, to sell boxes of matches and such.  Needless to say, I had enough matches to burn the city down.  This is not to say they didn't have beggars, but these were the seriously mentally and physically challenged individuals, a segment of society they are just now beginning to recognize.

Anyway, in preparation for Saturday, I suppose I should get to the market and start buying supplies.  One can only hope the greater Olympia religious authority will wake up to what's happening with these conscientious groups trying to feed the needy.  It would be nice to see some Christian ministers and priests leave the warmth of their parish to stand for what they preach.  It is a given we can't save the poor from themselves.  However, I think we all have to realize that, "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

I leave you, and the City of Olympia, with this final thought:

"You can create ordinances and change rules in order to ignore the hungry and the homeless, the poor and needy; but hunger, homelessness, poverty and need, will still exist.  Ignorance will not make a worsening situation go away, and moving it out of sight will only buy you time."

Christmas is for You

GOT CHRISTMAS?

(It's a concept!)

Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn't come from a store.  -- Dr. Seuss 

And, just maybe, Jesus wasn't this white.  This art has all the earmarks of the late 1800s, early 1900s, maybe the art deco period.  A baby that white in the desert would have been a melanoma waiting to happen.  I love this piece of art not as much for the subject matter as for the obvious love the artist felt for the subject matter. I am one of those people that art really must speak to for my attention.  What does it take to get our attention anymore?  What does it take to get your attention onto the real meaning of Christmas?  Not the "true" meaning, the "real" meaning.

We can tie up a discussion on the true meaning of Christmas for an eternity and not agree, or we can discuss the real meaning of Christmas as it is defined by most religious scholars around the world.  But, discussing Christmas is just that, a discussion.  Will it imbue your heart with Christmas spirit?  No, probably not.  Christmas is like faith.  Christmas is the belief in something larger than us.  It is not something that can be taught, it is something that must be experienced, an "ah ha" moment.

If you want to know the meaning of Christmas you must do your own due diligence, your own research.  If you don't do it yourself it would be like going to church and allowing the priest can guide you to God instead of doing the work yourself.  Which do you think is more acceptable, building the temple yourself or paying someone else to do it?

Celebrating the real meaning of Christmas does not detract from the gifts, the decorations, or the partying.  It simply refocuses our attention where it is supposed to be; the meaning behind all of it.  Remember the meaning of the star as you top the tree.  Remember the meaning of the manger scene as you set it up on the table.  Remember the gifts brought to the Christ in celebration of His birth as you wrap that scarf for Aunt Judy.  Think about the words of faith and adoration in the songs and music of praise for the holiday season.

What does Christmas mean?  I recently read an article that brought this home for me in an historical perspective:

On December 25, 1941, Julius Streicher, one of the most vicious of Hitler’s assistants, celebrated Christmas by penning the following editorial in his rabidly Antisemitic newspaper, Der Stuermer:

"If one really wants to put an end to the continued prospering of this curse from heaven that is the Jewish blood, there is only one way to do it: to eradicate this people, this Satan’s son, root and branch."

It was an appropriate thought for the day.  This Christmas, how will we celebrate?

-- Lawrence Kelemen 

I not sure how "appropriate" this thought is for any day, but it does make one think, and bodes the question:  This Christmas, how will you celebrate?

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas of faith, love, and peace, regardless of you spiritual beliefs.  Remember this holiday season, we are all children of the same universe; let's try to play nice.

Loss of a Loved One: Part 1

"How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life, wouldn't you say?"

--  Admiral James T. Kirk

I have never been through it, so I wouldn’t know.  But, I would suspect that, as a survivor, this quote is even more important and to the point.  Things happen in our lives, some good, some bad, some seem to be emotionally devastating.  Some of us fight to recover, some of us never do, and some bury it down deep and press ahead while they carry an unstable emotional time bomb around waiting for it to go off.

 

Grief is an emotion we all have to deal with, sooner or later, and few are ever prepared for.  It would be like preparing for a wave to hit the beach you’re standing on.  How big is the wave?  We’ll let you know when it hits, but since you can’t swim it matters little. 

One can empathize and sympathize, but our grief is our own.  Our grief is as specific to us our finger prints.  No one can feel what we feel because, well, they aren’t us.  To say, I know what you’re going through, even if I did go through it, would be nonsense.  Of course I don’t, I’m not you.  Your hurt is not my hurt, your loss not my loss, and it shouldn’t be.  Our differences define who we are.

It is enough to for us to let you know, we are here for you.  It is enough to stand with you and offer comfort where we can, support where we must, and to remind you that we love you.  You must, above all else, let out what you feel.  That you write what you feel relieves some of the emotional pressure and is the beginning of healing; just remember that healing is not forgetting.  Never forget.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."

--Headstone in Ireland

For those never having experienced the absolute joy that was Leo Buscaglia, I highly recommend the read.  If you can find the video series, so much the better.  After you have read or watched this marvelous orator, share the experience with others.  They will surely thank you for it.  He will make you live each and every moment of your life.

"I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death.  They continue to participate in every act, thought, and decision we make."

--Leo Buscaglia

Sunday Thought - December 22, 2013: God's Wife

Asherah - God's Wife.

God's wife?  Looks just like her!

I'm sorry, but this looks like a woman telling her seamstress she'd like something that will "lift and separate", a hood ornament for a chariot, or a memento from a wife to her soldier husband lest he forget what's waiting back at home.  God's wife?  Not so much, although, I wouldn't know.  Neither does anybody else for that matter.  This was Semitic mythology, several thousand years BCE?  

I suppose the archeologists made the quantum leap to this conclusion because they found several of them, and maybe a temple.  Maybe she was just very good at what she did, for the soldiers, and they erected a temple to her.  Easy to see how a beautiful, buxom, woman might have a legion of soldiers under her spell.  Who knows, this woman may even have run a brothel as well.  You can just hear the soldiers reminiscing around the camp fire, "What a goddess!"  The archeologist that found these is probably reading this thinking how very happy he is that he didn't mention statues these little statures were all found around the same fire pit.  For that matter, the "temple" the think they found might have been a glorified souvenir shop and these might have fallen from the shelf during some ancient police raid.  We have to make a lot of assumptions but, in the end, we really don't know.  It's a "best guess."

What the hell, let's muddy the water a bit.

Let's throw in another image of "God's consort."  Has she changed her hair dew?  No problem there, women are finicky, might be a bad hair day.  And, my goodness, she's had a boob job!  I guess this statue was from the period when large breasted fertility goddesses fell out of favor.  The problem here is, we have no "happy snaps" with little notes on the back stating the subject's name, date and location of the photo.  We don't know who this is, and the variety of differing images confirms this conclusion.

Does this mean Asherah didn't exist?  No, of course it doesn't.  Where there's smoke, or a smokin' statue, there is usually some basis for believing in possibilities.  Besides, there's the fact Asherah was "forcibly" removed from Hebrew scripture.  That in itself is telling.  Only a woman could piss the Hebrews off enough to get themselves removed from history, or stoned.  The question really centers around what she did to deserve it, and what made the Hebrews think they had the authority to disown God's wife.  Did God tell them to do it?  Did God send angels to decree, "Disowneth the harlot!"  She might have flaunted some ironclad prenuptial agreement, but wouldn't God have seen that coming?  Hmmm.  It would seem the only item left off of the prenup was the "No Removal from Religious Scripture" clause.  This probably explains why we've never heard of her attorney, either.

It is interesting that, after the Hebrews removed her from texts, she is never mentioned again in anyone's Holy Scripture.  God and North Korea's Kim Jon Un, or "Lil' Kim" as he is affectionately known, seem to be proficient in the art of making people disappear from historical record.  Dennis Rodman better watch his back while he's over there schmoozing Kim.  If he'd ever met Lil' Kim's uncle he may have to be erased as well.  Although, removing Rodman from historical record, well...would anybody ever notice?   Sorry, Dennis, that was a low shot.  I had to make it low since you seem to have your publicity seeking lips planted so firmly on Kim's human rights violating ass I'm not so sure his chubby cheeks aren't covering your ears.  But, I digress.

It ultimately rests on each of us to determine for ourselves, in the absence of physical proof, whether Asherah deserves consideration.  Abrahamic scholars would probably have us buy into monotheism, and that's fine.  "You shall have no other gods before me." (Exodus 20:3).  What does this really mean?  I offer that God intended we hold none of the other gods and goddesses in His realm in higher esteem than Himself.  He is the one true God...of gods.  If you are a Christian and believe in Satan, you must concede in lesser beings that have godly powers.  If we agree on this point then the possibility of a consort goddess is still in play. 

What was there, before there was nothing?  Very possibly, there existed the realm of heaven.

Where do you stand on Asherah?  Where do you stand on God?  Not belief or disbelief but, rather, what God is.  If you believe there is a God, and we were created in His image, then how hard is it to wonder why He wouldn't make Himself a companion?  Or, is everything metaphorical? It is something to ponder for this Sunday.

"I believe in God, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky.  I believe that what people call God is something in all of us.  I believe that what Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and all the rest said was right.  It's just that the translations have gone wrong."  --  John Lennon

Who Needs Christ During Christmas?

Who needs Christ during Christmas?

 

This isn't really a question being posed by atheists, it's a sad statement.  As such, it does not deserve an answer because one was not asked for.  I try to show tolerance to all beliefs as long as the practice of said belief peaceful and non-antagonistic. Some atheists do go about their daily lives peacefully, not making, or taking, issue with another person's belief set.  But, this "statement" is an attack on Christian belief. 

 

You only have to look at the sign to feel the intolerant hatred dripping from it.  Where we Christians want Christ on Christmas, they leave no doubt that they do not.  I say want, not need, because Christ is already here; we just want to feel more of Him.  Nobody truly needs Christ, we all already have Him.  He was God's gift to us, everyone!  But, where we care that he died for all of us, the atheist chooses not to care.  It is their right to make their choice, and we should respect it.  You reap what you sew, in this life and in the next.

 

When I think of atheists, I always wonder who they would scream for when the Viet Cong would drag their broken body into the interrogation room for another round of "rotate broken leg on yanqui dog 180 degrees."  After a while you become oblivious to the screams that are deafening you.  You begin to wonder whose screams keep waking you up.  With any mercy, you won't come to realize they're your own.

 

Surely they wouldn't scream for God's mercy, and God knows the Viet Cong would just laugh at any plea directed their way as they began another round of "180 Degrees" just to see if you would pass out and keep screaming, again.  Or, like Senator John McCain, maybe they'll hang you up by your elbows for days on end, until you permanently lose the ability to raise your arms higher than your chest and, with that, the ability to ever again salute the flag you love so much.  With any luck you'll die before the pain gets bad enough for you to, hypocritically, find comfort with a God you deny so you can make it through the years of captivity and torture to someday return home, crippled but alive. 

 

Even if this was a question and did require an answer, it would be difficult to form one with words small enough for most of this group to comprehend, much less understand.  I say this not to be flip, but I think trying to discuss religion with the segment of atheists shoveling this antagonistic drivel, would be like trying to discuss forgiveness and appropriateness with the congregation of the Westboro Baptist Church.  They don't represent all Baptist, any more than these atheist malcontents speak for all atheists.  Having read their posts, I fear that having any discussion with them would require a rain slicker due to the amount of vehement spit and foam they'll spray as they launch epithet  upon epithet in your general direction, while they fight off an aneurysm, trying to create some semblance of an argument to counter your belief in a deity.  Have you ever read some of their online content?  If you're a lady with genteel sensibilities, don't. And, as a Christian, you probably won't enjoy the hateful tone and lack of rhetorical content. 

 

What they, this particular segment of atheists, refuse to understand is that we really don't give a flying pooh what they think, or believe, as much as they'd like us to.  We feel they have the right to believe what they want, just as we do.  We'd just like them to do it in peace, shut the heck up about it, and show a little tolerance.  Christians, in general, tend to ignore these jibes from the atheists and feel the comments not worthy of having to fall far enough to make a defensive effort.  I think this effort, if made, would equate to offering a meaty bone to a rabid pit bull.  The dog will ignore the juicy bone in preference of ripping your head off.  Perhaps if the atheists behaved more like the Satanist, with a sense of mutual respect and propriety, the effort might seem worthwhile.

To quote Bill O'Reilly, "And that's tonight's Talking Points Memo."  As always, this is just my opinion, I could be wrong; doubtful, but I could be.

Franciscan Friars are Symptomatic

I feel this entire issue of the Vatican and the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate is really symptomatic of a much larger disease for the Catholic Church. 

 

I present this excerpt from Fr. John Zuhlsdorf's blog, posted on December 14, 2013.  The post was entitled, Fr. Z on Fr. Hunwicke on the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate.  His insight, in just this one paragraph, is chilling to hear when you consider the subject matter in another context. 

"As you know, the Franciscan Friars have internal disputes.  Some faction within the group brought the Holy See’s Congregation for Religious into the picture.  Unless you are bent on destruction (or are simply kinda dumb) that’s rarely a good idea.  The Congregation conducted what seems very much like a hostile take-over of the whole institute.  A “commissar” was appointed with absolute power over the Friars.  He has used it.  Included in his absolute control includes what seems a violation of the Church’s universal legislation in Summorum Pontificum, which was deeply disturbing for many of the traditional bent.  I can’t help but think that a lot of the Friars’ problems were to a certain extent brought on themselves, with the help of a lot of zealous lay people."

To read the post in its entirety it may be found at, http://wdtprs.com/blog/2013/12/fr-z-on-fr-hunwicke-on-the-franciscan-friars-of-the-immaculate/.

This sounds like the beginning of a conflict "anywhere around the world" with their internal disputes and factions within the group.  You can almost see a similarity of bringing the Holy See's Congregation for Religious into the picture as one faction in Egypt, Libya, or Syria bringing the Islamic Brotherhood into it.  "Unless you are hell bent on destruction (or simply kinda dumb) that's rarely a good idea."  To prove it, according to Fr. Zuhlsdorf, the Congregation conducts what is tantamount to a "hostile take-over," and inserts their own absolute dictatorship over the Friars.  Sounds like the Nazis and their Gestapo tactics.

I have read The Apostolic Letter, Summorum Pontificum, Pope Benedict XVI, July 7, 2007.  It is short enough that, for those who want more information, it is not a drudge to get through.  Not being an expert on Vatican writing style, I have been asked numerous times to look at contracts and legal documents for my input.  It would seem that Fr. Zuhlsdorf is right on target when he discusses this as being a seeming "violation of the Church's universal legislation..."

This drama and intrigue would be the beginning to any good novel or Hollywood movie.  The question I have to ask is, as always, "Why?"  Why does religion based on peace, love, and tolerance have to be so controlling?  Where is it written in any religion's scripture that control of the church and the faithful must be totalitarian?  I have visions of goose-stepping priests parading in St. Peter's Square, crosses emblazoned on their rich, red leather, battle dress jackets.  But, still, one has to ask, to what end?

The Franciscan Friars only want to preserve the old ways.  They prefer to worship in the Latin.  They see the traditional values as something they wish to continue to uphold.  So let them!  Who are they hurting in doing so?  No one I can see.  I would think the Vatican would be thrilled and supportive of a group that wishes to preserve these traditional values.  As I have said before, there is a balance that needs to be maintained in the universe.  The Friars are offering some of this balance.

I started this post by calling the Vatican's actions "chilling."  This is an example of the kind of prehistoric thinking Pope Francis is up against.  The Church needs to get back to spirituality and lose this desire to control.  Religion's business should be the spreading of love, understanding, peace and tolerance, not creating rules and regulations that prohibit the same.

 

"Sint ut sunt aut non sint" (Let them be as they are, or not at all).  These words were purportedly uttered by Lorenzo Ricci, General of the Jesuits, late in the 18th century "when faced with the plan of "reforming" the Company of Jesus, to adapt itself to the demands of the world."  Does this sound familiar?  History is again repeating itself, and the Vatican conveniently forgetting to learn.  This bit of history comes to us as excerpted from the Rorate Caeli blog site, www.rorate-caeli.BlogSpot.com.  In the introduction of another Rorate Caeli post, A passionate plea to Pope Francis for the Franciscan Friars, they state:

"Most conservative Catholic bloggers have either sided with the Fr. Volpi-driven interdiction or for the most part are now staying silent -- even now that the facts clearly show the harshness with which the Vatican is acting towards an order whose only crime was clinging to what was handed down to them."

I would challenge any religion that believes they must practice their faith through control and violence to show us the scripture.  Show us where Jesus said to run a totalitarian "prison" where free thinking and tradition are incompatible.  Show us where Muhammad says to kill all of the unbelievers and the "chosen people" of God, where it says the killing of innocence is appropriate.  Show us the scripture; don't send a self-proclaimed mouthpiece of the Prophet to spout their own interpretation of God's word.  Yet, this is the road the Vatican seems to be following Islam down.  The better option would be to let them be as they are.  The Vatican can support them, or not, as they so choose and the Friars have the option of accepting Vatican support, or not, as they so choose.  Personally, as much as I'd love to have Vatican approval and support, I don't see how it can trump the Friars' belief that they are doing the right thing in the eyes of God.  Of course, that's just my humble opinion.  I could be wrong. 

I would ask the Vatican to let the Friars of the Immaculate control their own lives; you have so many other, bigger, fish to fry.  Try working on how the world views the Vatican, instead of finding ways to alienate all of us through childish politics and infighting.  Be proud that they want to continue with tradition.  Heaven forbid, they could have wanted a nudist monastery.  In comparison, is tradition that hard to swallow?

How about we grow up, and let them be who they are.

Spiritual Threshold

“Now, Kalamas, don’t go by reports, by legends, by traditions, by scripture, by logical conjecture, by inference, by analogies, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, or by the thought, ‘This contemplative is our teacher.’ When you know for yourselves that, ‘These qualities are skillful; these qualities are blameless; these qualities are praised by the wise; these qualities, when adopted and carried out, lead to welfare and to happiness’ — then you should enter and remain in them.”

-- Gautama Siddharta (Buddha, 563-483 B.C.)

The threshold of a church used to be as close as I dared go to one, safely. There was no proof that anything negative would occur were I to cross the threshold.  Yet, I would wander around outside, visit with the wedding party, tug at my tie, and generally look uncomfortable until someone finally said, "We better go find a seat," at which point my hands would go clammy and my mouth would go dry. I would try my best to wait until the last minute before slowly approaching the front doors. I would stop with my toes on the line separating concrete walkway from the tiled foyer, and look down at that threshold as I took a tentative step across, squeezing my eyes shut before I placed one heel down on tile; waiting for my well-deserved lightning flash followed the fully expected and resounding explosion of thunder.  If nothing happened, I would then dare to bring the other foot forth.  My sins were forgivable, but I still had a fear of being smitten by the Mighty Smiter.  My fears were driven by blind faith in the wrath of a God handed down, in a culture of Catholicism, from when I was a child. 

I would dab at the cold sweat beading on my brow before following my mother, girlfriend, or wife to our seats, hopefully toward the back and usually at the front, where I was going to be subjected to mental torture for the next hour. I counted another blessing when it wasn't a drawn-out Catholic wedding, and a third if the Mass wasn't in Latin. I reasoned that all the standing, sitting, kneeling, and then repeat, in any Catholic service, was due to the physical danger caused by lack of blood flow from sitting on a hard church bench for a couple of hours with no chance of a seventh-inning stretch. One would jump at the chance to walk to the front for Communion, just to get the blood flowing back to your feet. I wonder if the priest realized that blessed, contented, look we all possessed was, along with receiving the Lord's host, also due to receiving back the comfortable warmth of feeling we lost below our knees.

At each of my visits to holy ground, no lightning strike ever materialized and, therefore, no small pile of ash had to be vacuumed up or swept away.

It finally dawned on me, somewhere along my life, the reason there was no feared lightning strike was that I was expecting it. Not really God's style, that. What good the lesson if you don't learn it for yourself? So I became aware that God would punish me for any transgressions in numerous small ways, spanking me again and again. Of course, I well knew, as with any father, this would hurt God more than it hurt me. Fear and pain was not the object of the lesson.  So it was that I found myself freely entering holy ground, yet looking up with one eye closed, just in case, and uttering a silent thanks for the free pass.

Later, I developed a habit of going into the church early so I could have a private moment with the powers that be. I would take this short time to ask blessings and assistance for those around me, as well as forgiveness for my own shortcomings as a person of faith, and as a sinner of which there is no doubt. I think it was in these moments I developed a personal relationship with God, Christ, and the Blessed Mother. My relationship with Mary is most special in my heart; I know this because all I have to do is stand before her effigy and I begin to cry freely. Perhaps this show of emotion is due to the attachment to one's own mother only, here, on the spiritual plane.

A loving God should not be feared, as long as you toe the line. Like any child, we have lessons to learn, and tutoring if we have a tough go of it. Crossing the line, the threshold, from religious to spiritual, can be such a lesson. The answers, for many of these lessons, are found not in traditions, scripture, and the like.  More often, the answers to our questions are found in what we discover for ourselves.

I found in the Blessed Mother a calming influence, and it became evident to me that in Her I found a mirror of the emotion, discipline, love, and forgiveness I would find at home; the discipline of the father, the understanding of the mother, and the older brother I never had with his unerring balance, intuition, and sweet reasonableness.

I stood on the threshold of love,

fearing to enter the house of my family,

where I found unconditional love

and easy expectations;

To search, grow, love, minister,

show tolerance and understanding,

and try, and when trying fails,

ask "Why?"

Do not strive for the Kingdom of God,

for heaven surrounds us.

We are the custodians of it,

and the ministers of all which is good.

We already enjoy everlasting life,

how we live it is at hand.

From one life to the next we grow,

learning to be worthy.

I stood on the threshold of love;

ever present, unconditional, love,

with only expectations of myself,

to be worthy of those around me. 

Editor's Note

(Re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card)

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so. This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot. Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider an alternate viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and while engaging in peaceful and constructive discussion, in an arena of mutual respect, concerning those opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we learn from the experience, and what we do afterward.

Pastor Tony spent 22 years with United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and senior manager. He spent 17 years, following his service career, working with the premier, world renowned, Institutional Review Board helping to protect the rights of human subjects involved in pharmaceutical research. Ordained 1n 2013 as an "interfaith" minister, he founded the Congregation for Religious Tolerance in response to intolerance shown by Christians toward peaceful Islam. As the weapon for his war on intolerance he chose the pen, and wages his "battle" in the guise of the Congregation's official online blog, The Path, of which he is both author and editor. "The Path" offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He currently resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteers as lead Chaplain and Chaplain Program Liaison, at the regional medical center.