Digression: Bush and just war
Okay, President Bush has been backing up and backing up on his claims that Saddam Hussein had great big missiles full of chemical/biological weapons pointed directly at the United States and ready to fire at any time. Maybe that's not exactly what he said, but the whole imminent danger thing kept coming up over and over again.
Now we're getting proof that Saddam had, at best, a few shoddy programs and that his people were lying to him the whole time.
But he was a bad guy, right? So we're okay. We ended that terrible regime.
Problem: The reason Bush STARTED A WAR was not because the US had collectively decided to help out Iraqis. It was because of the immediate threat to the lives of Americans. Self defense is an ethical justification for war--if someone attacks, you can fight back. But just deciding someone else's country has a bad ruler is not a justification for war.
War is always evil. It gives people a free pass to kill and destroy. There is never a war where bad things (killing/raping civilians, theft, looting, etc.) do not happen, and both sides are always guilty of some of it. Granted, some wars are worse than others, and not all people involved in war act inhumanely.
I'm not saying that Saddam Hussein was a great guy, etc. etc., but it turns out that the policies we were using before--containment, sanctions, inspections--were actually working to keep him from attacking us. And using war to solve humanitarian problems is a little like using a hammer to kill bugs.
Still, war is a tremendous evil and shouldn't be rushed into lightly. Our policy of "pre-emptive war" (read:war of aggression) means that the responsibility for this one falls squarely on our shoulders. And now, surprise surprise, it turns out we were wrong. And we went to war anyway, on little evidence, but lots of rash blustering.
--end rant--
Friday, January 30, 2004
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Control, part 1
So my job as a temporary administrative assistant requires that I work with a variety of people. In particular, a person I've met in the last week or so has gone beyond my usual expectations in attempting to control things. Dates, pieces of paper, meetings, information, etc. The goal is to lose nothing.
I know about myself that I have a tendency to be much more laid back most of the time, so this personality is hard for me to relate to, on a certain level. I just don't have that kind of comprehensive interest in every single possible detail. Even though I know that technically that's probably my job.
(I attempt to manage details with automatic systems--little notes and triggers--instead of relying on my faulty memory.)
The point, though, is that this person is dedicating tremendous energy to control, and it has set me to thinking about my own interest in control. What things do I want to control? When is it better to acknowledge a lack of control?
So my job as a temporary administrative assistant requires that I work with a variety of people. In particular, a person I've met in the last week or so has gone beyond my usual expectations in attempting to control things. Dates, pieces of paper, meetings, information, etc. The goal is to lose nothing.
I know about myself that I have a tendency to be much more laid back most of the time, so this personality is hard for me to relate to, on a certain level. I just don't have that kind of comprehensive interest in every single possible detail. Even though I know that technically that's probably my job.
(I attempt to manage details with automatic systems--little notes and triggers--instead of relying on my faulty memory.)
The point, though, is that this person is dedicating tremendous energy to control, and it has set me to thinking about my own interest in control. What things do I want to control? When is it better to acknowledge a lack of control?
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
On Belief
I was having a tremendously interesting conversation last night with some folks in a spirituality group I've been meeting with the last two weeks, and one of the topics that came up was belief: As in, it's hard to go to church, (for example) when you don't believe in God, or at least aren't sure you believe in God.
There's a philosopher/Christian defender from back in the day who argues that you should believe in God because 1. If you do believe in God and God exists, you get rewarded after death (assuming God rewards people for believing) 2. If you believe in God and God doesn't exist, you don't lose anything because you'll be dead then anyway. 3. If you don't believe in God and God does exist--big trouble! and 4. If you don't believe and you're right, well you don't really get anything out of that deal either. So, the result of this whole exposition is: you might as well hedge your bets and believe in God. Right?
Well, there's one big problem: nobody just decides to believe or not believe. It's possible to be convinced, or to change your mind over time, but just wanting to believe something isn't going to flip a magic switch of some kind.
So, two thoughts.
1. The ability to believe, or to have faith, is a gift from God, not something that we have immediate control of for ourselves. There's a quote in the gospels that sums it up very well when a man says to Jesus, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
2. Believing particular propositions isn't the most important part of being a Christian. To my mind, how we act is more important. And in fact I think that our actions reinforce our beliefs and even grow and develop them. Reference: Indiana Jones on his way to the holy grail basically has to step out into open air. Who knows whether he believes he'll really land on something solid? But once he hits the stone bridge, he really does believe. So it may be that the order of things gets reversed sometimes--sometimes action comes before belief.
I was having a tremendously interesting conversation last night with some folks in a spirituality group I've been meeting with the last two weeks, and one of the topics that came up was belief: As in, it's hard to go to church, (for example) when you don't believe in God, or at least aren't sure you believe in God.
There's a philosopher/Christian defender from back in the day who argues that you should believe in God because 1. If you do believe in God and God exists, you get rewarded after death (assuming God rewards people for believing) 2. If you believe in God and God doesn't exist, you don't lose anything because you'll be dead then anyway. 3. If you don't believe in God and God does exist--big trouble! and 4. If you don't believe and you're right, well you don't really get anything out of that deal either. So, the result of this whole exposition is: you might as well hedge your bets and believe in God. Right?
Well, there's one big problem: nobody just decides to believe or not believe. It's possible to be convinced, or to change your mind over time, but just wanting to believe something isn't going to flip a magic switch of some kind.
So, two thoughts.
1. The ability to believe, or to have faith, is a gift from God, not something that we have immediate control of for ourselves. There's a quote in the gospels that sums it up very well when a man says to Jesus, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
2. Believing particular propositions isn't the most important part of being a Christian. To my mind, how we act is more important. And in fact I think that our actions reinforce our beliefs and even grow and develop them. Reference: Indiana Jones on his way to the holy grail basically has to step out into open air. Who knows whether he believes he'll really land on something solid? But once he hits the stone bridge, he really does believe. So it may be that the order of things gets reversed sometimes--sometimes action comes before belief.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Friday, January 23, 2004
Context: In the passage from Matthew that follows this post, the setting is: the end of the world. Jesus is acting as the final judge and is separating those who will get into heaven from those who will not. The rationale for who gets in and who doesn't is that those who helped "the least of these" will get in, and those who didn't, won't. In fact, Jesus identifies himself with those "least of these": serving them is the same as serving him.
Question: What motivates Christian ministry?. Is it fear of hell? I'd like to think not, although I haven't decided why that kind of motivation is problematic to me. I guess I don't like the idea of living in fear of God. Because what does that say about God? It makes God into a supernatural cop, or else Santa Claus. So, the tenor of that relationship becomes fear and/or trying to get away with things.
But God doesn't seem to work that way, as far as I can tell. For instance, Jesus points out: "The rain falls on the just and the unjust." Whether you like rain or not, everybody gets treated the same. At least in this lifetime, some people get away with bad things on a regular basis (case in point--I haven't gotten my laptop back-see below), and some people get in trouble for demonstrating humilty, integrity, and honesty.
I guess another take I might have on this set of verses, is that it's not so much about what will happen at the end of time, but what we need to keep in mind as priorities now.
Kind of wishy-washy, huh?
Well, maybe. But the garbage-in garbage-out formula applies to ministry as much as anything else. If fear is my motivation, then I'll be fearful in my work. Quote from Office Space: "That'll only make somebody work just hard enough not to get fired." Or, in this case, just hard enough not to go to hell.
But then life becomes something of a living hell, because how is one to know when enough is enough? Doing something you don't want to do, in order to try to be sure of escaping punishment doesn't sound like a lot of fun, much less like redemption.
The end of the world part gives the story extra oomph, as in, we mean it: taking care of those in need is the most important thing you can do! Living out the kingdom of God--being a disciple of Jesus--means that you will make a material difference in the lives of the least of these.
So, can I come up with a better motivation than "do this or you'll go to hell?"
Here's where I'd like to find my motivation: by seeing Christ in the people I serve.
Acting out of love toward the divine being that provides for us, loves us unconditionally, and seeks a relationship with us, seems like a much more life-giving approach to ministry. Of course, it all depends on out personal images of God. If your idea of what the Christ is like is a guy who is going to judge you if you screw up, then that creates a problem: Who really, deeply, in their hearts, wants to help someone that crabby?
Question: What motivates Christian ministry?. Is it fear of hell? I'd like to think not, although I haven't decided why that kind of motivation is problematic to me. I guess I don't like the idea of living in fear of God. Because what does that say about God? It makes God into a supernatural cop, or else Santa Claus. So, the tenor of that relationship becomes fear and/or trying to get away with things.
But God doesn't seem to work that way, as far as I can tell. For instance, Jesus points out: "The rain falls on the just and the unjust." Whether you like rain or not, everybody gets treated the same. At least in this lifetime, some people get away with bad things on a regular basis (case in point--I haven't gotten my laptop back-see below), and some people get in trouble for demonstrating humilty, integrity, and honesty.
I guess another take I might have on this set of verses, is that it's not so much about what will happen at the end of time, but what we need to keep in mind as priorities now.
Kind of wishy-washy, huh?
Well, maybe. But the garbage-in garbage-out formula applies to ministry as much as anything else. If fear is my motivation, then I'll be fearful in my work. Quote from Office Space: "That'll only make somebody work just hard enough not to get fired." Or, in this case, just hard enough not to go to hell.
But then life becomes something of a living hell, because how is one to know when enough is enough? Doing something you don't want to do, in order to try to be sure of escaping punishment doesn't sound like a lot of fun, much less like redemption.
The end of the world part gives the story extra oomph, as in, we mean it: taking care of those in need is the most important thing you can do! Living out the kingdom of God--being a disciple of Jesus--means that you will make a material difference in the lives of the least of these.
So, can I come up with a better motivation than "do this or you'll go to hell?"
Here's where I'd like to find my motivation: by seeing Christ in the people I serve.
Acting out of love toward the divine being that provides for us, loves us unconditionally, and seeks a relationship with us, seems like a much more life-giving approach to ministry. Of course, it all depends on out personal images of God. If your idea of what the Christ is like is a guy who is going to judge you if you screw up, then that creates a problem: Who really, deeply, in their hearts, wants to help someone that crabby?
for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,
I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.'
Then they also will answer, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?'
Then he will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' (NRSV-- Matthew 25:42-45)
I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.'
Then they also will answer, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?'
Then he will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' (NRSV-- Matthew 25:42-45)
Thursday, January 22, 2004
So, on with the actual posting.
My apartment got broken into about two months ago. The thieves took my camera and my laptop, along with a cup of change. So much for living in a safe neighborhood.
Obviously, this is a very upsetting experience--having people you don't know rooting around in your stuff, losing all the old files you used to have on your computer that you never were going to look at again, but still. Isn't it nice to just have them around in case you ever do need them? And then the hassle of getting new things, and the worries over the money.
Which brings me to this: When I was in the first throes of agony, so to speak, (or maybe it was the second or third set of throes) I thought of this particular saying of Jesus': "Don't build up treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. Instead, build up treasures for yourself in heaven."
I've heard this verse in church many times, and before it always seemed very punitive to me, as if to say, "you shouldn't care about money, if you're really spiritual," or, "serving God means giving everything away and suffering like crazy--you'd never be able to do it."
But now, having had the experience of having thieves break in and steal, I've had this sudden insight about Jesus as an older brother giving me good advice. He's not trying to make me feel guilty for not being spiritual enough; he's trying to keep me from the demoralizing experience of losing what I hold most dear. It's a much warmer picture than I used to have, thinking about what used to seem like a very ascetic kind of a teaching.
My apartment got broken into about two months ago. The thieves took my camera and my laptop, along with a cup of change. So much for living in a safe neighborhood.
Obviously, this is a very upsetting experience--having people you don't know rooting around in your stuff, losing all the old files you used to have on your computer that you never were going to look at again, but still. Isn't it nice to just have them around in case you ever do need them? And then the hassle of getting new things, and the worries over the money.
Which brings me to this: When I was in the first throes of agony, so to speak, (or maybe it was the second or third set of throes) I thought of this particular saying of Jesus': "Don't build up treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. Instead, build up treasures for yourself in heaven."
I've heard this verse in church many times, and before it always seemed very punitive to me, as if to say, "you shouldn't care about money, if you're really spiritual," or, "serving God means giving everything away and suffering like crazy--you'd never be able to do it."
But now, having had the experience of having thieves break in and steal, I've had this sudden insight about Jesus as an older brother giving me good advice. He's not trying to make me feel guilty for not being spiritual enough; he's trying to keep me from the demoralizing experience of losing what I hold most dear. It's a much warmer picture than I used to have, thinking about what used to seem like a very ascetic kind of a teaching.
So wow, I'm finally on the bandwagon, so to speak, with my very own blog. It's like having a blank piece of paper or a new semester. I can't possibly just start in writing. I have to write about writing first.
I want to write about religion/Christian spirituality. Any topics you're interested in? Drop me a comment!
Blessings,
Amy
I want to write about religion/Christian spirituality. Any topics you're interested in? Drop me a comment!
Blessings,
Amy
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