I’m no expert on culture. However, I am both an observer and a purveyor of the thing. It’s certainly a big thing, like economics, politics or religion. It’s a thing that surrounds us, defines us, and invades us. It’s about customs, our relationships and institutions. It underscores so much of what we think, how we behave and how we look at the world and one another. Of course, culture is not a static thing as it is ever evolving. On the other hand, being a humanly constructed thing, there are things about culture that remain unchanging as, in fact, there are things about us that remain unchanged.

I expect there was a time not all that long ago, in relative terms, where people did not think a whole lot about culture. They went about their lives in a kind of passive acceptance that this is just the way things were or were supposed to be. A German goldsmith by the name of Johannes Gutenberg sort of busted that wide open around 1440 AD when he invented movable type … what we know as a printing press. Voila!: The European Renaissance and then we were off to the races. Massive upheavals followed, including revolutions in science, religion, economics and politics. And, of course, culture.

With communication democratized, individual opinions suddenly mattered, sometimes in a very big way. Finding their voice, citizens of the western world became instant commentators. Pre-Gutenberg, the likes of Benjamin Franklin and Voltaire (cultural critics both), among countless others, would have disappeared into history.

Fast forward to Gutenberg’s 20^th century twin, the silicon microchip, and we have another massive reorientation underway, with similar tectonic shifts in science, religion, economics and politics. And, of course, culture.

Please excuse my long contextualization involving history. Can’t quite shake the DNA.

All of this brings me back to a topic I’ve certainly touched on in many ways, although maybe not directly in the sense I’d like to today.

We are a tribal species and some commentators will argue that it’s this tribal nature that is most definitive of how we construct our societies. We seek relationships with those who share our values, principles and customs and we shy away from (or fear or even abhor) those who don’t. We commonly make judgments about the kind of art or institutions or means of expression we think are valuable or threatening. We do this all of the time, both consciously and unconsciously. Can’t help it. Some of us try to adapt and find out that adaptation is not all that bad in some circumstances. On the other hand, we find adaptation to some things extremely undesirable. And, some people plain want to turn back the clock entirely.

For instance (and in the cause of full disclosure), I can’t much stand 20^th century “classical” music or much of what we can loosely call “modern art.” Now, before I’m called a complete snob, I’d like to put out that I’m not an absolutist on this. There are a number of clear exceptions. But, as a whole, give me Mozart over Shostakovich or Sibelius. Give me Rembrandt over Picasso. And, those are the modern artists who I don’t find ultimately debasing (well, I may have to step back on that with some of Picasso’s work.) What’s the distinction and what does this have to do with the point I have yet to make?

It all comes down to value … as in, what we value most dearly. What are the guiding principles that govern our lives; the way we seek to live out the short time we’re here? To cut to the chase, our expression, whether it be in art or language or the institutions we create to frame and govern our societies, is the window into who we are and what we value as important.

Expression is a hard thing to think about because it has so many layers. We may value one thing but find ourselves expressing ourselves (behaving) quite differently. We may think we are the one defining how best to behave but discover that we are merely conforming to social influences and pressure for all sorts of reasons. After awhile, we may look back and wonder where the change began, if we wonder at all.

It will come as no surprise but I believe we are created with a purpose. (Well, many purposes but they’re all connected under a simple umbrella.) It’s that purpose that gives rise to our values and guiding principles, which should define our expression and the things we hold dear.

A person who seeks to lift up others each day … to help alleviate suffering in their neighbors’ lives, who encourages others on a regular basis, acts lovingly when it’s a hard thing to do, wakes up with a sense of hope even when things appear dismal, behaves very different from one who:

Seeks to judge others every day for their perceived faults and inadequacies, chooses to first look at what is wrong, rather than what is right, shouts rather than embraces, gravitates to violence rather than peace, to deceit and self-promotion rather than integrity and selfless giving. This is the one who is at home with debasing, rather than uplifting, one who enjoys shocking others rather than consoling them and treating them with kindness and compassion.

Some will examine our “western” culture today and applaud it. We live with far less constraints than ever before in the history of our species. We are free to behave publicly in ways that would have been unimaginable not that long ago. While the coarseness that is a result was always a feature of human society (Caligula, anyone?), we are witnessing its extension seemingly everywhere. For this aging person, it’s depressing.

I bemoan the degradation of the thing we used to call good manners. Of natural respect for others. Of deference. Of civil language. So much now has to be “sensational,” as in powerfully tapping into our senses, beating at us for attention. How much time and opportunity are we given for reflection about the things we value the most and where that sense of value comes from? Our culture is now evolving at hyper-speed, seemingly an inevitable thing.

What to do? It seems everywhere I gaze I see criticism. And the criticism is quite frequently fueled by fear, anger and resentment. With so many platforms by which these sentiments can be delivered, there is constant competition for air time, bandwidth or reader volume. Furthermore, with attention spans diminishing, there is a corresponding need to intensify the volume, so as to be heard. And that accelerates the push to embrace the more unseemly side of who we are.

What if our first inclination is to lift up rather than tear down? Admittedly, this can be very tough. Lord knows, I’m opinionated and decidedly unhappy at much I see. With the heart torn and anger close to the surface, it’s easy to press aside inclinations to be positive and uplifting. Who among us does not have a base side to our nature? Seeing no hands, we can rest assured we’re part of a very large club. So, what to do?

For starters, I’ll let the apostle Paul share some simple yet sage advice. In a letter to the church in Ephesus, which is now in modern day Turkey, he writes in Ephesians 4:29 “Do not let unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it might benefit those who listen.”

Let us all meditate on what he could mean by “unwholesome talk” and what kind of talk would be “helpful for building others us according to their needs.”

Is expletive-laden language wholesome? Does it help us to become better than we are? Does it reflect respect for those around us? What does it mean to be “whole” anyway? What kind of person is one who has been “built up according to their needs?” What do people “need,” actually? Is our expression more of our own need to be recognized, even if it’s done intrusively? Or, rather, should our expression be other-centered, with an eye to helping to bring others out of suffering or restrictive places? Or, to just pay attention that there is a person next to us, probably a stranger, who could use a smile and a kind word? Are we quick to pass along the demeaning tidbit, rather than to seek the joyful one?

I get that bad stuff, in many cases, needs to be exposed. Of that, I’m a fan. However, in the rush to expose the bad (the nature of which is certainly divisive), we lose sight of the good. It beats us down and robs us of some of the wonderful things that make us human. It robs us of our sense of purpose. We are not mere animals, seeking food and procreation before we die. We are creative beings, with remarkable potential. Whether we use that potential to help lift ourselves out of the gutter or bring the gutter all around us is, I think, worth pondering about.

I am both product and designer of our culture. I am free to make a choice. How I choose to express myself will reflect the choice I make. I can make a difference, no matter how small. I need plenty of help and reminders but it’s reassuring to look back and see even the most modest of changes. Thank God.

It would be a hard heart, indeed, that is not suffering these days. This would be a heart hidden from the world and the immense suffering in it. Perhaps, in the pursuit of that elusive thing we call happiness, such a heart is given temporary reprieve. But it never lasts and the next defeat of whatever stripe is waiting just around the corner. Dark? Yes. But not the whole story by any means.

We cannot be surprised when terrible things happen. Shocked, of course. But, not really surprised if we’ve been paying attention to our species from time immemorial. We thirst and cry for justice and peace only to be demoralized when they prove fleeting. We search for answers, for antidotes to the things that seem so dreadfully inconsistent with the values we hold dear. We become very good at being angry or contemptuous or, perhaps, insular or judgmental. We wonder why it has to be so hard. Can’t humanity just improve? It seems such a reasonable request.

We look around and it’s hard to deny that, in comparative fashion, global humanity is improving materially. Relative poverty is decreasing, although it has a long way to go. Opportunities for material gain are on the rise as is life expectancy in many societies. Coupled with this material improvement is the revolution in technology and information transfer, allowing people to be connected, at least virtually, like never before.

But, to be honest, WE aren’t changing all that much. For every bright Star Trek prophesy, there are multiple ones of dark dystopia, calling out a very disturbing truth of what makes us tick. In all honesty, though, these inclinations seem frequently matched and even outdone by some remarkable reservoir of good that burst forth in the most trying of times.

So, we are in this seesaw life of ups and downs and I feel for the person who expects that to end.

Are there times when you feel crushed? Where the stomach is tight and seems to be producing chemicals that bleed anxiety into our body? Where heartache is really the heart aching? When joy is a thing too far out of reach to contemplate?

A friend and I occasionally ask one another, “What is the state of your soul?” It is to the seesaw state of our life that such a question is directed.

We sang a hymn this morning that is one of my favorites. A hymn is a prayer put to music, frequently both voice and instrument. I lived most of my life without hymns. Truth be told, if you’d have asked me to describe them, I might have conjured up a visual from some movie or TV show set in the 19^th century American West. Small town. Small church with a steeple just off of the main street. Men dressed formally. Women in bonnets. All sitting pretty rigidly while singing something written in past centuries. Not anything relevant to my modern life or the things that clamored for my attention.

Oh, how things have changed. Diane and I don’t attend Sunday services at a church that is all that formal … we call the music contemporary which means there is no formal robed choir. No organ. Instead, we have guitars, drums, keyboards and the occasional strings and brass or woodwinds. We sing songs that are popular on Christian radio and songs of which we are unfamiliar. We also sing hymns, something I now love. For me, singing a hymn is expressing a deep truth and lifting that truth outwards and upwards. It can be both a plea and a praise. Singing a hymn is a point in our life where we connect our heads with our hearts and join with friends and strangers in one voice. For a moment or slightly longer, we set aside our regular desires and concerns and lay ourselves open before God. To be so joined is a blessing difficult to describe.

One of the four songs we sang this morning is a very familiar piece. I used to play it in my car on a relatively consistent basis driving to or from an especially challenging day at work, when strife was sometimes commonplace … when despite my best efforts, it was hard to set aside the pressures of the job, the demands for my attention, the anxieties about making a mistake when lives seemed to be at stake.

Now, I play it sometimes when I sit or hike alone, helping me to bring order from disorder. Meaning out of chaos. Truth from deceit.

It is entitled, Be Still My Soul and I especially like a lesser known version sung by David Acton. I will try to include both the lyrics and a link to the audio version if you’re interested.

You see, I do believe there is an antidote and it comes in many forms, with one common denominator. The antidote is not an exit strategy. It is not a means of escaping the suffering around us, nor of avoiding our responsibility to seek its ending wherever we see it. Instead, the antidote is a recalibration of everything we know, which may seem absurd to some and at least disorienting to many others. We can choose to avoid it for whatever reason or we can turn towards it and the only thing we need to do is ask.

Be Still My Soul

Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side.

Stand calm within, the storm of grief and pain.

Trust in thy God to order and provide.

Through every change, his faithful light remains.

Be still my soul, the restful peace within.

Through trying times, leads to a joyful end.

Be still my soul, the wind and waves shall know,

The voice who rules them when he dwelt below.

Torment and doubt have slipped into the past.

All dark and mysteries shall shine at last.

His burning sun shall melt the ice of fear.

Lift up your heart, his soothing voice to hear.

Be still my soul, when light you cannot see.

And trembling skies speak to the fear in thee.

The face of God illuminates the night.

Unending peace and trusting perfect light.

Be still my soul, when tears fall from above.

You are divine, eternally in love.

Like all of you, I awoke this morning to the news of the slaughter of innocents. Apparently, a lone man with a machine gun wrought devastation upon hundreds, killing more than any mass murderer in modern American history. It was the kind of news that tightened the chest and grieved the heart. While I am one who spends time with history and perspective, so this kind of thing can be catalogued with all of the others like it, it still stops me in my tracks. My mind struggled in those early moments to grasp ahold of it, seeing it ripple out in waves through the lives of the victims, their families, their community and all those who are so viscerally repulsed. I chose not to immediately go to details, fearing among other things that I would be faced with all sorts of explanations, some of which would be linked with this or that political cause.

As my heart hurt, my mind went to that elusive but ever-present source that we can call evil.

I have written about this before and I have pondered the nature of evil time and again over the years. People far smarter and wiser than I have offered up all sorts of explanations, many of which I’ve found valuable as I try to make sense of it all.

The question of evil is so challenging that some large belief systems don’t even engage it. Many people don’t even like the word. Well, perhaps. I imagine those who don’t like the word have never confronted it directly, face to face, in a way that will make one’s hair stand on end while a sense of cold and dread enters through the pores.

In other words, I think that there are many with modern sensibilities who treat evil as a kind of theoretical thing as in, “I’d know it if I saw it but I can’t say as I really understand it.”

To be honest, the problem of evil is one of the greatest stumbling blocks to belief in the Christian worldview. Or, for that matter, belief in any kind of a God who is at least partially or fully loving or benevolent. And, that’s quite understandable.

If we dismiss the supernatural, then what we might term evil, like the events of last night, are chalked up to a pure basis in psychology. In keeping with that, the psychology behind the act is a function of all sorts of things, much or most of which is socially constructed. (The term social construction has been around for decades now … one of the most difficult books I ever read was not a long one but dense as dense can be. It was entitled The Social Construction of Reality and sorely tested my mind and will in graduate school. It basically means that we are to a very large degree the product of our environment and the many social forces that frame that environment.) Ultimately, with some great validity, this line of thinking says that all sorts of humanly-generated factors led to the murderer’s heinous act. Who knows yet? Parental treatment? Rejection by peers? Ill-mannered bosses? Political or religious idealism? All of these can and have been contributing forces to acts such as occurred last night.

But, that’s if we dismiss the supernatural. Unfortunately, to dismiss the supernatural is to say that nature is moral. There is justice in nature. Try as I might, I can’t make that one work. Trees, rocks, birds, plankton, asteroids, planets and so forth don’t have a morality. I’d be pleased to listen to those who disagree.

Which leaves us with two choices. We can believe that there is no supernatural and that this thing that occurred was very bad, carried out by a depraved individual. I suspect he would say he was not depraved and I imagine there are many others who cheer his actions. They would say he was justified by some logic that others would find repulsive. But, in that light, it could not be called evil. Because evil implies a standard that rises above the psychology or social construction. It stands all on its own. Evil transcends bad. Everyone is free to believe this.

The other choice is that Evil is a powerful force, an intelligent force, that seeks to invade our sense of things, twist our minds and hearts and acts in the interest of destroying what it means to be human. We are also free to believe this.

I choose to believe that Evil went to the bank last night and in a burst of fire and metal wreaked havoc on what is good and right in this life. As we mourn the lights that were extinguished, we reach out to the light that brings life.

I grew up with the mindset that everything was political. Everything. I lived that way for who knows how long? I studied it and taught it. When one looks through that lens, it shapes so many things, including our hearts.

Of course, I was wrong. I hope people pause and ask themselves about the nature of all of reality, not just the immediately obvious. The immediately obvious screams its poison.

We choose our course and then follow where it leads. I weep at the direction of so many.

With the information from my last post in our minds, we turn to what these groups actually believe, starting with the Muslims, who, as we know, practice a religion called Islam. For the sake of brevity, I will be extremely simplistic. It’s not hard to find a ton of information, should anyone be interested.

First, some demographic information. While most people associate Islam with the Middle East, far more Muslims live in what we may call the Asia-Pacific region (that is, the far southwestern part of the Pacific). As of 2010, nearly 1 billion of the 1.6 billion worldwide Muslims lived in this region, that includes Indonesia, the largest Muslim country where 87% claim membership, for a total of 209 million. Close to 200 million Muslims live in India, comprising only about 15% of their population. Just .2% of the world’s Muslims live in North America, given the most recent data.

Now, for some history. About 500 years after the Romans destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem (70 AD), dramatically altering the history of Judaism, another huge event occurred in that part of the world. According to tradition, Muhammad was born in 570 in the trading town of Mecca, on the Arabian Peninsula. Around the year 610, he began having audio and visual experiences that he understood as revelations that needed to be shared. He saw himself as God’s messenger, a prophet sent to set right the misinterpretations about God espoused by Jews and Christians.

His followers regarded him in the same line as earlier Jewish and Christian prophets except much better informed. They saw him as the last in line of prophets of the one true God, the same God worshipped by Jews and Christians. They would trace their heritage back to Adam all the way through Jesus who they saw as preaching the same message of belief in one sovereign transcendent God. These followers whom we can call Muslims saw Muhammad as the finest human who ever lived. They do not claim he was God incarnated. He only performed one miracle and that was vocally delivering the sacred scriptures we know as the Qur’an or Koran. The work was not printed until after his death in 632. It is about the same length as the New Testament. Muslims believe it is the direct and literal Word of God. It includes mention of Abraham and Isaac, Moses and Pharaoh, David and Solomon.

Muhammad’s successors were called “caliphs.” (Note, ISIS is an attempt to establish a modern caliphate.) It is also important to note that a huge schism occurred right after Muhammad died. A minority of his followers claimed that he had designated his son-in-law as his successor. They became the “Party of Faction” which is translated as Shi’a. The majority said Muhammad had not made such a designation but that it should be up to a group of elders to decide his successor. These were called the “People of Sunnah and the Assembly,” Sunni for short. Anyone who wants to know why the Shiites of Iran have been in such strong historic conflict with the Sunnis of Iraq and Saudi Arabia, can trace their division back to here.

To make a long story short, Muslims eventually conquered all of the Middle East and spread upwards to the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal) and a great deal of South Asia by the 16^th century, including Afghanistan and the northern two thirds of India.

Next, their core beliefs. The most fundamental Muslim beliefs are contained in a two part statement: “I confess that there is no deity but God, and that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.” Muslims know this through the prophets, the last and most important of whom was Muhammad. This confession is the first of “Five Pillars of Faith.” The other four pillars are almsgiving, daily prayer, fasting during Ramadan and pilgrimage to Mecca.

Muslims believe that God is very close to each individual. He is highly personal. Their tradition states that God’s mercy is greater than his anger. Like Christians, they believe in an afterlife and that humans are accountable for their free moral decisions. They believe in a Day of Judgment. They also believe in both Heaven and Hell and, possibly, purgatory.

Muhammad said that Jews and Christians are “People of the Book,” meaning they are all Abrahamic. They believe that Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary but do not believe he was crucified and resurrected. Muslims believe that the God they call Allah is the same God worshipped by Jews and Christians.

Mecca (in what is now known as Saudi Arabia) is the holiest city in Islam. It is the site of the Ka’ba (Arabic for cube), a stone structure that is about 40 feet on each side. It occupies part of the Sacred Mosque and is the holiest site in Islam. Muslims believe it is here where Muhammad was born. It can be loosely compared to the Holy of Holies at the Temple in Judeo-Christian tradition. I understand that Muslims believe Abraham almost sacrificed his son, Ishmael, there. All Muslims are expected to make a pilgrimage (their Hajj) once in their lives to this spot. It is also the spot towards which Muslims bow in prayer each day. The second holiest city is Medina, where Muhammad built his following. The third most holy city in Islam is Jerusalem, where Muslims believe Muhammad was mysteriously transported from Medina, later ascending to heaven from the high point that was home to the Second Temple and is now also home to the Muslim Dome of the Rock.

A couple of terms are prevalent today. The first is Jihad, which in Arabic means striving or struggle. Throughout the history of Islam it has had many meanings. Apparently, it can be interpreted both as an inner struggle and an outward one, the latter including both defensive and offensive means. As we know, it is now widely used to define extreme forms of Islam in their “right” to push their sets of beliefs around the world. It is now a highly charged term with a lot of political connotations. The second term is Sharia, which means religious law. Its, also, has enormous political connotations, as many cultures wherein Islam is practiced are facing significant differences of opinion on the role of Sharia in civil society. In Islamic theocracies like Saudi Arabia, there is virtually no difference between Sharia and civil law. In pluralistic cultures like in Europe and North American, there are escalating disputes about the role of Sharia. Like in some other religions, the battle is also within the faith as moderates and extremists will disagree.

This is all only a preliminary sketch of some basics of Islam. There is so much more history and detail about their beliefs, practices, and cultural phenomenon. Suffice for now that they are the second largest of the three monotheistic faiths practiced in the world and are growing in both numbers and percentage of adherents.

Ka’ba at the Grand Mosque in Mecca

The Dome of the Rock Mosque on Temple Mount in Jerusalem

I wanted to provide my email address to those of you who don’t have it. I understand there may be some questions or observations that some people might want to share but don’t necessarily want to post as a reply on this site. If anyone wants to have a short or long sidebar or would like me to consider a particular topic, please don’t hesitate to contact me!

Brad

brad.lichtman@yahoo.com

Writing about Atheism got me to thinking about other major belief systems and that I know many people can get easily lost trying to navigate the divisions and nuances of the world’s religions, not to mention their core sets of beliefs. I’ve had many conversations with people over the years who seek a better understanding and so I thought I might take a stab at summarizing some basics. For some of you, this may be old hat. For others it may answer some questions or solve some riddles that might have been floating around somewhere.

I expect this will take several parts and, even then, I’ll only be able to scratch the surface.

In our American culture, Christianity has largely dominated the scene for the past 400 years, although unlike many other cultures, we are quite pluralistic and have always been home to those practicing other faiths. This is not the case in many places. With the world getting smaller so to speak, and as our ability to be connected increases, our contact with the many belief systems out there similarly increases.

For starters, let’s get the simple data out of the way so we get some perspective. For this, I turn back to my trusted source, the Pew Research Center and their review of 2,500 of the most recent different censuses. They include accurate data covering almost 7 billion people in over 230 countries and territories. Here’s what it shows.

Christians   31.5%

Muslims   23.2%

Unaffiliated   16.3%

Hindus   15.0%

Buddhists   7.1%

Folk Religions   5.9% (African traditional, Chinese folk, Native American and Aboriginal religions)

Other Religions   .8% (Baha’i, Jainism, Sikhism, Shintoism, Taoism, Wicca, Zoroastrianism, etc)

Jews   .2%

Obviously, just under 78% of the world’s population is affiliated with the big four faith systems, leaving just over 20% as either unaffiliated or practicing a religion with relatively few adherents. Of that latter category, the Jews are the largest portion.

* * * * *

Now, let’s include some terms that may be quite familiar but will help us organize how we can interpret these different sets of beliefs.

Theism

This is the general belief in a God or multiple gods. This is to be contrasted with Atheism, that denies such existence, something we looked at previously. Theism comes from the Greek, “theos,” meaning god.

Monotheism

When we add “mono” to theism, we of course get the belief that there is just one God. This is the belief by traditional Christians, Muslims and Jews that there is one transcendent, all powerful, creative God. Granted, Christians get in a little hot water over this because they see their monotheistic God as Trinitarian, meaning God is actually three persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We’ll get to that later. The three great monotheistic religions share many common characteristics, although they have some glaring differences as most of us know and we’ll briefly cover.

Polytheism

Poly means many and this is the belief that there are multiple deities and even hierarchies of deities. Polytheism was the general practice of most cultures up through the Iron and Bronze ages and was the system by which the Greeks and Romans of Classical Antiquity practiced. It continued through the Dark Ages as the system of choice by Germanic and Slavic peoples and is currently most widely practiced by most Hindus, some traditional Chinese religions, and Shinto in Japan. There is some correspondence with Animistic beliefs, largely practiced by what can be called folk religions and with beliefs such as Wicca.

Pantheism

This one gets really complicated but some awareness of its meaning will be helpful to understand contemporary thinking. Pan comes from the Greek and means “all.” In a broad sense, pantheism is the belief that all reality is divine. There is no division. Pantheists do not believe in a distinct god or gods. While some versions of pantheism go back thousands of years, there have been some much more modern and western interpretations. Hinduism can also be seen somewhat as pantheistic, while also seen as both polytheistic and monotheistic by some of their believers. Hinduism is complex! Some variations of pantheism can also be seen in the Gnostics (the author Dan Brown is a big fan of Gnosticism). I came across two 18^th century definitions of pantheism by famous European philosophers and adherents. One is “All things in the world are one and one is in all things.” A second says pantheists believe “there is no other being but the whole universe.” In other words everything is divine. Trees, rocks, plants, air, us, you name it. It grew in influence in the west through the 19^th century and is reflected in the thinking of such notable people as Walt Whitman, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Henry David Thoreau. More recently the astronomer Carl Sagan has been regarded as a pantheist. And some will call nature worshippers pantheists although there are some differences. Finally, pantheism is also a pretty safe way of characterizing Taoism, Sikhism, Confucianism and some of Hinduism, as well as the traditional religions of Native Americans and Africans and what some will call New Age religions and spiritualism. How does all of that sound?

Deism

This set of beliefs was born during the Age of Enlightenment (c. 1685-1815) and became the belief of many prominent European and American thinkers, including some we would call our Founding Fathers. Deism is closely linked with rationalism and scientific reasoning. Its adherents believed in a creative god; however that being does not actually interfere with this world. In the classic description, he or it is the watchmaker who designs the watch, gets it going and then stands back and does not interfere with its workings. Deists do not believe in either revelation or miracles. They believe that reason gives us all we need. It’s probable that such notable early Americans as Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison and Thomas Paine were all deists. To those who regularly argue that this country was founded by Christians, I respectfully disagree. It’s quite a stretch to say that Deists were Christians. Of course, there were many prominent Christians around the time of our nation’s founding, but the early framers of such documents as the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were heavily influenced by Deism.

Other

While there are other categories, when we look at the religious belief systems around the world today, we’ll be able to place most of them in one or more of those just described.

With one major exception. And that is Buddhism. Buddhism is non-theistic. There are no gods associated with it and it doe not fall into any of the above categories. We’ll see why when we get there.

Stay tuned.

I get atheism. I really do.

I even have respect for atheism as it makes sense. It’s not hard to connect the dots and arrive at the conclusion that there is no “supernatural” reality and that all of the religions practiced in all of the cultures throughout human history are just different manifestations of fantasies.

I mean look at all of the evidence!

Pick a belief system and make it hold together. Make there be consistency between theory and practice. Make it stand alone on the merits against all of the arguments to the contrary.

It’s really, really hard.

I would have no problem standing on a stage and debating the theist from any of the faith systems that have ever existed. I could spend hours taking pot shots at the holes in their theories. I should know.

It’s agnosticism that I have trouble with. I’m not speaking of the agnostic who is trying to know. I’m speaking of the agnostic who doesn’t care to know. We’ll get to that later.

Atheism is different. Atheism is a faith because, of course, you can’t prove a negative. You can’t prove there is no God, no more than you can prove there is a God.

What got me going on this is the coincidental two conversations I had at different ends of the day a couple of weeks ago about Joel Osteen, he of the Prosperity Gospel. Both conversations started with people wondering why he didn’t open his megachurch in Houston to the dispossessed from Hurricane Harvey. He is one of the most famous self-avowed Christians in America. I guess, under pressure eventually, he relented and opened up his huge former home of the Houston Rockets to the needy. I was not surprised in the least that he needed to have his arm twisted.

His example and the example of those like him is one reason I can have respect for atheists.

I used to attend church with Diane on very rare occasions, sitting in the pew listening to the sermon with a posture that probably would have frozen boiling water. I readily jumped on every snippet that I found objectionable, comparing the message being preached with the real world as I knew it and easily finding the message akin to snake oil. And I was being nice.

I mean I knew the pastor meant well and I knew the attendees were good people for the most part and I knew the causes they supported (such as helping the poor) were often (not always) noble. But, think of all of the gaps in their thinking! Think of all the gaps between what they believed and what the actual reality of things was!

Let’s be objective about this. I mean from that vantage point, you have this guy, Jesus. He may or may not have actually lived. That’s debatable, depending upon what you pick as source material. You have some other guys who at some point begin to say things about him to convince other people that he’s something special. And, in a way what they say may have some veracity. Over time, groups of men get together to try to hammer out what is true or not and they come up with a bunch of creeds. What? Did they vote? Is the truth that persists through the ages the result of a bunch of guys casting ballots? Let’s hit the pause button on that.

Adding fuel to the fire, you have this big compendium of poems, lists, stories, letters, predictions, histories, rules, dreams and so forth … all put together and sold as the Word of God. Which some people say must be taken literally (as translated through multiple languages over thousands of years) and other people say you can pick and choose what to actually believe.

And you factor in more disputes and schisms and wars and terror and strife and the question of evil and all of the variations … and that’s just in Christianity, the religion of love, grace and peace. We haven’t even got to Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Animism, Zoroastrianism, Druidism and the mythologies of the Greeks, Romans, Mayans, Incas, Aztecs and every other culture throughout history.

This is why I get atheism. And, Joel Osteen could almost make me an atheist. In fact people like him are a principal reason why I battled so hard for so long. How could the God I heard in March 2005 come out of the mouths of people like him and so many others be anything close to a real God?

Not that I’m judgmental, of course. 🙂

Of course, I know a lot of people who self-describe as “Believers.” This is a term that was largely unfamiliar to me before I became a member of that tribe. Loosely, it refers to the group who accept Jesus as the incarnated true God and pretty much buy into the meaning of his life, teaching, death and resurrection. While individual members of this large tribe may dispute this or that particular belief regarding this or that particular thing (say issues regarding sex, interpreting the Bible, political and economic philosophies, etc…) they largely agree on several foundational values. Of course, what might be relatively unknown to people not in this group is the fact that all people in this group have doubts. They have questions and concerns. In other words, while they accept the fact of “the rock on which I stand,” they/we sometimes feel on shaky ground. All is not perfect as we are human.

I don’t know a lot of atheists. I do know a few as they’ve admitted that and I take them at their word. Of course, I read about atheism and have read quite a few atheist teachings. I’m aware that, although they still constitute a relatively small percentage of our American population, they are growing in numbers and influence. For many of them, they sense the tide beginning to turn away from a Christian-centric worldview in our culture and this is giving them traction. For them, Reason and Science are King. I have written before that we all need a fundamental set of values by which we can organize our lives, whether we recognize those or not. We all worship at some alter and for some that is the alter of our own selves. The committed atheist has concluded the evidence for a God is completely insufficient in light of all of the data. They become “believers” of a different stripe. For them, life is organized around the precept that there is no God and that is the rock upon which they stand. I have to say, they have many very good points and their arguments are worth considering.

For the purposes of this reflection, I’m basically looking at the culture in which you and I live. In other words, early 21^st century America. Maybe I’ll expand this in a future post but that will take a lot longer. An organization entitled the Pew Research Center is widely recognized as the most authoritative body that gathers and publishes data on religious practice. Its most recent data on American religious affiliation showed approximately 70% identifying as Christian (In descending order of membership: Evangelical Protestant, Catholic, Mainline Protestant and Historical Black Protestant). That total Christian figure also includes Mormons at 1.6% and Jehovah’s Witnesses at .8%. (Most mainstream Christians have a hard time linking either of these two groups to Christianity, despite their claims. Regardless, they are very small in number, relatively speaking.) Aside from that 70%, only 5.9% adhere to other religions. Of those, 1.9% are Jewish, .9% are Muslims, .7% are Buddhists, .7% are Hindus and .3% adhere to other identifiable religions (Unitarians, Humanists, Deists, Pagan or Wiccan, Native American as examples). That leaves just under 23% who say they are “Unaffiliated,” otherwise referred to as “Nones.” Of those, 3.1% of the total population identify as Atheist, 4.0% as Agnostic and 15.8% as “Nothing in Particular” which is itself broken down into the 8.8% who claim religion is not important and 6.9% who claim it is. Whew!!

In other words, while Belief and, in particular, Christian Belief constitutes the large majority, there are a significant number of people who don’t identify with a particular belief. Of that significant majority, I have to say that Atheists should be separated because they are actually Believers. They are different from Agnostics (“A” as a negative and “gnosis” meaning knowledge) in that Atheists have committed to the Faith that there is no God, making them actually very religious!

While I disagree with them for all sorts of perfectly rational and scientific reasons, I like their commitment to finding the truth. They take the time to sort things out after examining a whole lot of evidence. No offense to the Agnostics or Nothing in Particulars, but, in my experience, it’s often because getting to the bottom of things is not a priority.

Interestingly, this latter group is the fastest growing group in America and I’m fascinated by it. They are much more significant in numbers than Atheists, who increasingly have a voice and platform far exceeding their numbers. Having been a Nothing in Particular for so long, I’m in a pretty good position to consider their dilemma. In fact, a good slice of these reflections are written with them in mind.

So, while Atheism can be seen as the antithesis of Christian Belief, we share some strong similarities, among them very established sets of foundational principles and values that can be logically supported. (Of course each side will identify fatal flaws in the logic of the other side!) Both sides need to be distinguished from the many others who can not identify foundational principles and values, especially their source. It’s not hard to see that in an era of increasing moral relativism where the guiding principle is how “I feel,” it becomes difficult to take a stand and easy to see why “Nothing in Particular” is an attractive alternative.

I could go on much longer but it’s time to get back to Joel Osteen and wrap this up. To me, buying into his message that belief in Jesus will bring us material prosperity, is a corruption of the Gospel in a way that is obvious to the doubters and seductive to so many others. Such slick purveyors of snake oil have always been with us (Jesus and Paul both spent a bunch of time talking about them) and (while not obvious to their adherents) can be easily exposed like the Wizard behind the curtain of Oz. That they get a lot of attention because of their telegenic qualities and soothing messages is a key turnoff to those who expect foundational principles of a much deeper variety.

As fellow believers, atheists and Christians should consider the nature of their conversation and engage in it humbly with open hearts and ears. As both camps seek to influence that large minority who are either seeking truth or not interested, the conversation is slightly different but the principles of humility and listening don’t change.

In conclusion, while I get Atheism, my hope is that they spend as much time questioning their faith as I do mine. Self-righteousness is never a healthy place for any Believer.

So, what do you believe and why?

Israel is not for everyone, without a doubt. It certainly doesn’t stack up well as a vacation spot, especially in comparison with so many other options. We were there in the heat of the summer, which is something I wouldn’t recommend, given the chance. For the most part, it was very, very hot and quite dry (except when it was uncomfortably humid). Parts of it reminded us of Mexico, with dusty shanties lining some of the roads, even with animals sharing space with humans. The two urban centers of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem were choked with cars except, of course, on Shabbat (Saturday/Sabbath) where, at least in Jerusalem, the city was eerily quiet in many neighborhoods. No, this was no vacation. We were at it virtually from 6am until 9pm, covering more ground, history and life than I had imagined. Led by Yair, the best tour guide on the planet, our wonderful pastor, Mofid, and the intrepid bus driver, Shimon, we were ostensibly on a tour. More accurately, we were on an adventure of a lifetime.

I don’t feel called to write a travelogue but to relay a series of impressions. As in a Monet. Bits and pieces collected on a canvas. Not as a photograph but as moments of color that can stand alone but, when viewed in totality, offer a special beauty that draws us both inward and to something greater. We’ll see how this goes.

The fact and concept of Israel conjures up all sorts of feelings, from indifference to longing, to deep anger to pride and hope. Having studied the place since my teens, taught about it in my twenties and thirties and been hyper-aware of its many challenges and triumphs all of my adult life, you can imagine my anticipation as I looked out the window of our inbound flight, approaching the coastline on a clear Sunday morning, descending over the Mediterranean Sea. Shortly before, I had looked down in the early light to see Greek islands below, some of which we had visited just over a year ago. I knew in a few minutes I would land in a place that was a part of me, unlike any other place on earth.

In America, we are blessed with unmatched physical beauty across a giant landscape. Great mountains and great rivers. Awesome forests and large swaths of dry deserts. Seemingly endless plains and thousands and thousands of lakes, both small and immense. Surrounded on three sides by water, we have been defined by frontier. It’s in our spirit. There’s always something out there to comprehend and even conquer. We get absorbed in the history of our people and our land, marveling at the course life has taken over the past 500 years, since European explorers opened up the continent to immigration. In Israel, 500 years is modern history.

As I mentioned in a prior post, the entire nation is smaller than Lake Michigan but there are pieces of it that have been fought over with more passion and for longer than any other place on earth. The battle has been raging, with some notable exceptions, for thousands of years. When we were standing on a small piece of real estate on the Temple Mount in the heart of Jerusalem, I felt I was standing at the epicenter of the earth. That tends to get one’s attention.

We spent the week in the northern half of the country, beginning in Tel Aviv, the modern and mostly secular Mediterranean seaside bustling metropolis close to the geographic midpoint. The southern half of Israel is sparsely inhabited and largely uncultivated desert. The Roman ruins were everywhere as was evidence of Jewish life going back thousands of years. Both of these nations had great builders as did those that followed. The Christian Byzantines in the 4^th century, the Moslems in the 7^th century, the Crusaders in the 11^th century, the Ottoman Turks in the 16^th century … and all of the synagogues, mosques and churches they left behind, some of which they continue to operate in the 21^st century.

Our week long journey took us a stone’s throw from the northern border with Lebanon, the northeastern border with Syria and the eastern border with Jordan. We could easily see how close we were to these other countries, basically carved out of the region by British bureaucrats only a hundred years ago. At one point, we were only 25 miles from the Syrian capital of Damascus and we could hear artillery out of sight over the famous Golan Heights. When we were there, Israeli jets bombarded a suspected chemical plant in Syria. Some in our group were a little oft-put but my feelings were reflected in the comments of an Israeli family we spoke with that this was just part of life there. Nothing to pay any attention to. Oh, it’s Thursday? Of course there will be military action as there is every week.

While in the north, among many other things, we visited the tall hillside overlooking the Sea of Galilee (a very large lake) where Jesus probably gave his famous Sermon on the Mount, perhaps the most widely known piece of his teaching during his three years of public ministry. I am usually able to visualize things that aren’t actually there and it was not hard to rid my mind’s eye of the church planted on the spot and picture the multitudes yearning for wisdom from this strange man, trying to fathom how he was turning what they had believed upside down.

Not far away were the towns of Nazareth, where Jesus grew up and Capurnaum where he spent much of his time. One of the first major highlights of the trip was taking a mockup of an ancient boat out on the Sea of Galilee. We easily gazed at the shorelines, still pristine with small beaches where Jesus would have come across Simon (Peter) and a few other fishermen and told them to “drop your nets and follow me.” The world would never be the same again. I live those words every day so to see the location immediately next to me was to close a circle that I will never forget. While also out on that boat, it didn’t take much to picture two of the most well known stories from the Gospels: Jesus walking on the water, inviting Peter to join him, and the storm that nearly swamped their small craft when Jesus asked them why they were so afraid. I have Rembrandt’s beautiful depiction of that Storm on the Sea of Galilee hanging prominently in our study as I write these words. That episode, too, has great significance.

Just north of the Sea of Galilee, nestled in the hills that rise up to Lebanon, are the springs and water sources that initiate the Jordan River, flowing soon into the Galilee. At the southern end of the lake, the Jordan begins anew on its long journey south down to the Dead Sea. It was here, very close to the headwaters, we conducted the ceremonial immersion in the Jordan River, reenacting the baptism of Jesus which heralded the beginning of his three year public ministry that culminated with his crucifixion. Our reenactment was one of the special moments in the life of one who follows Jesus. Our pastor prayed over each of us individually as we joined him in the chest deep waters of the slowly moving river. Our entire group was deeply moved. I had the privilege of assisting Mofid, helping the people to move from the shore into the river. This will be another indelible moment. If the Gospel story is to believed, when Jesus’ first cousin, John, nicknamed The Baptist, received Jesus into the river, the skies opened up and the voice said, “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.” I’d have settled for a voice that said, “This is my son, with whom I am partially pleased.” 🙂

Actually, the real baptism did not occur right there but quite a bit south in a remote and desert region just north of the Dead Sea. John had “come out of the wilderness” to meet Jesus. That wilderness was quite evident in the completely desolate environment in that region. They only get about 1 inch of rain a year. This is the location of Qumran, the rocky hills pockmarked with caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found in the late 1940s by shepherds. They were the work of the group of ascetic Jews named the Essenes, a monkish and communal order who transcribed ancient scripture. John was probably a member. The scrolls, when completely authenticated, rocked the world. They were 1^st century verbatim of the Hebrew texts that make up what Christians refer to as the Old Testament. Prior to this, the oldest surviving texts were 1000 years more recent. Not far away, we visited the mountain fortress of Masada, where about 1000 Jewish warriors and their families made a last stand against the Romans around 73 AD, before taking their own lives when it was clear they would be defeated and sold into slavery. There were definitely some tears in our group as our guide told the dramatic story as we stood in the remarkable ruins of this fortress, high over the desert and overlooking the Dead Sea. We could see below us the ruins of the Roman positions as they prepared over two years to destroy this last stand of Jewish independence in the Middle East. The link with the Holocaust and modern Israel cannot be overstated.

On the lighter side, we spent a night in a very nice hotel on the shore of the Dead Sea. Our guide had advised us all to try a simple exercise. Grab a newspaper and tuck it beneath an arm as we waded into the water. When we reached waist high, simply sit down and lean back, letting our legs rise to the surface. We quickly discovered first hand what we’d heard: You can float on your back effortlessly. We all took pictures in this pose, holding a newspaper on our chests. Some people actually found it difficult to stand back up because it was hard to drop one’s legs! Now, that was an experience of a lifetime. There is only one Dead Sea, 33% salt (the Pacific Ocean is 3% I believe), 1200 feet below sea level, where Death Valley, the lowest point in North America, is only 300 feet below sea level. Some details to file away. 🙂

From there, we headed west and up to Jerusalem. Jeru Shalem. City of Peace. City of God. City of conquest and wars and disputes. As the story goes, at its highest point, now called the Temple Mount, home of the ruins of King Herod the Great’s 1^st Century Second Temple as well as the Dome of the Rock, a most holy Moslem site, it is also the site where the father of the Hebrew people, Abraham, was called by God to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Of course, the scriptures tell us that God gave Isaac a last second reprieve and Isaac’s grandson, Joseph, later became Pharaoh’s right hand man. Many centuries later, Moses led the enslaved Jews out of Egypt while his people, under the leadership of Joshua, finally crossed over the Jordan River into the Promised Land. Still much later the shepherd boy, David, improbably killed Goliath and was later anointed King, the first one to unite all of the tribes with his capital at Jerusalem, the City of David. David’s son, Solomon, built the first Temple to house their God, around 1000 BC, which was later destroyed by the Babylonians as the Jews were sent into exile. This was 600 years before Jesus was born.

There is certainly no city in the world that has so captured my attention as Jerusalem. As we crested the pass and saw the city spread out in front, I marveled that I was finally there. Untold millions have made pilgrimages to this spot through the millennia. Countless wars have been fought throughout those millennia. Countless lives have been lost in those wars. Who knows the amount of tears that have been shed during this long time? But, who knows the depth of the hearts of those who approached the city as they paid homage to God, recognizing their call to be true to him?

Jerusalem is surrounded by large hills but to get to the Old City, raised up on the top of its own hill, one has to descend into a surrounding valley that acts as a kind of moat. This serves to set that place truly apart, causing anyone who seeks that ancient place to walk up a steep rise and look heavenward. Nothing serves as well as to see a thing for the first time. Perhaps, sometimes we are underwhelmed and disappointed, having created a picture in our mind of the way things are supposed to be. Perhaps we are overwhelmed by the beauty or significance of the thing. With repetitive exposure, our sense of awe may begin to fade unless we pause to see a familiar thing through the eyes of someone brand new to the scene. I was seeing it with fresh eyes but through the many lenses that have shaped my understanding of its significance. As an historian and a man of faith, I could think of no more consequential place than where I was at that moment.

We made it to Jerusalem on Thursday afternoon and left for Ben Gurion airport outside of Tel Aviv first thing Monday morning. In those three and a half days, we covered thousands of years of life and saw and felt things brand new to each of us.

As was true throughout our trip, there were sites where tradition stated that this or that occurred. There were sites where conjecture went beyond simple tradition but rested on very educated assumptions. And there were sites that were beyond dispute. Given space, I will not differentiate between them here.

We began our Jerusalem journey by walking down the only possible narrow road that could have been the path Jesus took on the day Christians call Palm Sunday, a week before his resurrection, celebrated as Easter. In fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophesy, this itinerant preacher and miracle worker was heralded on what he recognized was the fateful end of his earthly journey. The pathway was steep and we made our way slowly, with a massive and ancient Jewish cemetery to our left. At the bottom, we encountered the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus spent his final hours before being captured. In the hours and days that followed, we spent considerable time in and around the Old City, with its many stories unfolding right in front of us. Too many to mention except for a few. Praying at the surviving Western Wall, called the Wailing Wall. Transiting the Via Delarosa (the Road of Suffering) that Jesus allegedly took after being condemned and on his way to the cross just outside the city walls. (For many Christians, this is a way of connecting with a thing called The Passion, or the final hours of Jesus’ life.) We visited the place where King David probably lived and also the place where the High Priest, Caiaphas, also probably lived and where he judged and condemned Jesus, holding him in a deep cistern. We saw and prayed at the ruins of the ancient Pool of Bethesda where the Gospels describe Jesus healing a crippled man. We sang a glorious song beneath the rotunda of a beautiful small church set along Jesus’ final path. There were many a glistening eye. We visited the Palestinian town of Bethlehem, not far from Jerusalem, and walked to the site beneath a large church where tradition states that Jesus was born in a stable. We worshipped and celebrated communion in the Garden Tomb, the alleged site where Jesus was laid down in the cave after he was taken from the cross.

Everywhere we looked, we saw the crossroads of cultures and the dynamics of a nation and peoples who carry weighty things on their shoulders. Ultra Orthodox Jews with their strange dress most of us have seen in places like New York or in movies and pictures. Greek, Armenian and Russian Orthodox priests. Catholic priests and monks. Seas of Jewish men strolling around wearing yarmulkes. Moslems and Palestinians in traditional dress, the women fully covered. Soldiers and police both on guard and walking casually through the streets, armed to the teeth with automatic weapons, wearing backpacks filled with who knows what. Many seemed very young. Some were strolling hand in hand with their lovers as if saying to the world that we will not let any threat deter us from living the life we seek. Serious faces. Smiling faces. Bustling markets so tightly woven that we were shoulder to shoulder amongst the goods and their vendors. Narrow alleyways and bustling roadways. You had to be careful crossing the street.

We made many new friends on the trip, some who will remain in Israel and may who came home with us. One does not take a journey like this and remain distant from one’s companions.

On Monday morning, as our plane took off and rose rapidly over the coastline, it seemed like we’d been there much longer than eight days. I remember sitting back in my seat, anxious to return to our wonderful home, thinking how blessed I was to have this opportunity. There is much suffering in this life. There always has been and always will be. But there is also much joy. It will take me and us a long long time to process all that we saw and did. But that’s ok. I was changed and it was good. That is something to be treasured. Amen.

Overlooking the Dead Sea

Diane in the Jordan River

Our Wonderful Group and Tour Guide

Brad in the Jordan River

The Dead Sea

Masada

On the Sea of Galilee

Praying at the Western Wall

On Jerusalem’s Temple Mount

A Jerusalem Old City Street

Quite awhile before I professed Jesus, I saw the movie, Exodus (based on the great book of that title by Leon Uris), starring Paul Newman. This Exodus was the second one, portraying in Technicolor the mass migration of Jews to Palestine in the aftermath of WWII. Interestingly, blue-eyed Newman’s father was Jewish (his mother was raised in Christian Science) and Newman always identified as Jewish. I’ve read the book and seen the movie a number of times and it still tugs at me. It chronicles the conflict that culminated in the birth of the modern State of Israel. Not to be missed.

Why is this tiny plot of arid ground such a powerful force in our world? Certainly, there is no other piece of real estate on our planet so hotly contested for so long by so many. Today, it both unifies and divides like no other location.

Jews are actually divided on its significance. When we talk about Christians or Moslems or Buddhists or even Hindus, we are usually describing those that adhere to a set of theological principles. On the other hand, there are many atheist or agnostic Jews, something it would be hard to imagine with respect to the other major faiths. So, there are Jews who don’t believer there is a God? The short answer is yes. If you dig a little deeper you can begin to understand why.

More than with the other major faiths (with the possible exception of the Hindus), Jews are an ethnic or cultural people with a wide range of religious beliefs and practices, including atheism. For many Jews, the current State of Israel has deep spiritual roots and it is their connection to their ancient spiritual heritage. For other Jews, it is the only piece of defensible property in a hostile world bent upon their annihilation. The word Holy is irrelevant in that context.

Many professing Christians refer to geographical Palestine as The Holy Land. And, it’s to that I turn my attention.

A number of weeks ago, I wrote a piece that basically called out the practice of declaring this or that location or site as holy. I said this because I believe the nature of Holy should be reserved for that which is of God. And, of course, God is not in a piece of dirt or unique to a particular location on earth, say in Sedona, Arizona, which some people believe is an especially holy place. (Lest I be misunderstood, Sedona is an absolutely beautiful place and an easy reminder of the beauty of God’s creation.)

At the time, I knew I might come up against the question of what I think about the place Christians commonly refer to as The Holy Land. Well, I guess I’m ready to take that on.

The short answer for perhaps the majority of Christians is that geographic Palestine happens to be where Jesus was born, lived, served his three year ministry, was killed and resurrected. It is the birthplace of their faith. For Christians it is the one place God chose to become man and save mankind from sins. In other words, pretty special.

Taken in perspective, Israel as it stands now is an area of 8,000 square miles. This may seem like a large number but it’s not. Israel would be the fourth smallest state in the United States, smaller than Vermont or New Hampshire. Only Connecticut, Delaware and Rhode Island are smaller. While larger than San Diego County, it is not twice as large. Its length is 263 miles while at its narrowest point, it is 9 miles wide. It would be swallowed up by Lake Michigan.

Many Christians also cannot separate the history and substance of their faith from that of the Jews who preceded Jesus. These Christians know Jesus as a Jew and see his life and teaching as inextricably linked with the history and teachings of Jews in the preceding thousands of years. Much of those thousands of years were spent in that small area and in some of the immediately adjacent areas. In other words, the long thread of Judeo-Christian history and theology is confined to a relatively small piece of earthly property. When you pack all of that in, perspective tends to get focused.

Of course, both historically and in the current era, there have been many and continue to be many professing Christians who either are unaware of their connection to Judaism or have actively sought to discredit and oppress Jews. Too many Jews are familiar with the Christian vitriol expressed to them with the phrase “Jesus killers.”

Of course, I think this is one of the great tragedies in the history of Christianity and I believe it’s a terrible scar and a true blight on the faith to which I belong.

Of course, Jesus was killed for many reasons, the most obvious of which was that he was a threat to the prevailing political order, for good reason. That theme has never ceased. He is still at the center of power politics as alliances are formed for and against those who profess him God. Today, in the United States, evangelical Christians are the most outspoken supporters of the State of Israel, even more strongly than some American Jewish interest groups. In a world where the vast majority of nations are aligned against Israel, millions of American Christians stand firm, with many of them supporting the nation through pilgrimages. They do to a large extent because they believe the land is holy.

As an historian, I am traveling to Israel because of its remarkable history, a history I know pretty well and have taught off and on. I wish to stand on the ground of the places I’ve read about much of my life. I want to visit the locations and enter the buildings constructed with different purposes in mind. I want to put myself in the mindset of the many people who have lived and died there, both in the distant pass and in the present time.

As someone with a passing knowledge of theology, I want to see how the three great monotheistic faiths have coalesced in this small area. I wish to see their places of worship, architecture, artwork and cultural expressions representing their faiths.

As a very amateur historian and theologian, also somewhat familiar with political science and economics, I hope to expand my knowledge base beyond what I’ve accumulated second hand. I’d like to see for myself.

But, primarily, that is not why I am going.

I am going on a pilgrimage. You would never have convinced me sometime ago that that would be possible.

That word, “pilgrimage,” can be tossed off fairly casually as a trip to a place of some special meaning, such as a baseball aficionado traveling to Cooperstown, NY, to see the National Baseball Hall of Fame. But the word, pilgrim, does not really lend itself to that kind of thing.

We can look at the word in one of two ways. A pilgrim can be one who makes a special journey to a place out of a deep sense of connection to that location. The word is usually connected with a trip to a place considered sacred or holy. For instance, all Moslems are encouraged or expected to make at least one trip to Mecca in their lifetimes, as pilgrims. To my knowledge, no other faith, including Judaism and Christianity expects that. This is not to say that those with other faiths do not make pilgrimages to, let’s say Tibet for Buddhists or to the Vatican for Roman Catholics. But, I’m not aware of it being an expectation. Forgive me if I’m wrong! I can always learn.

We can also interpret the word in a broader sense as one who is in perpetual pilgrimage. In this context, the pilgrim is making a life choice to be on a journey towards something truly sacred and significant. The destination is not a physical place but a spiritual one and it is probably the defining piece of that person’s existence. Specific journeys are all part of the ongoing defining journey and the concept of destination is appropriately broadened.

I guess I have to say I am a pilgrim. This journey to Israel is a pilgrimage and another step along the way.

We will be spending eight nights in the country. As part of a very organized tour, our itinerary is packed. We will be stopping at storied locations and visiting ancient ruins as well as churches, synagogues, museums, villages, you name it. I have been asked a number of times about what I’m most looking forward to. It’s hard to pick and I may be surprised afterwards.

If I had to pick three, they would be these.

Walking on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus’ home town of Nazareth is only 20 miles from there and he spent a significant part of his ministry around that very large lake. The Rembrandt print on my wall depicting Jesus and his disciples amidst the storm is of the Sea of Galilee. This is where he gathered his first disciples. I am excited about the chance to stand there.

Being immersed in the Jordan River by Pastor Mofid, a most remarkable man. As I’ve already been baptized and that is generally considered a one time thing, this immersion will have a different but especially powerful significance. My original baptism was a brief sprinkling of water, signifying a sacred bond. This one will be a reenactment of the original baptisms by John the Baptist in that same location and, most importantly, John’s baptism of Jesus. The appearance of a dove and a heavenly voice are not expected but would be welcome. 🙂 The Jordan River, of course, was the terminus of the original Exodus, as Moses, Joshua, Caleb and hundreds of thousands of their people anticipated crossing over into the Promised Land.

Praying at the Western Wall of the ruined Second Temple on the Temple Mount of Jerusalem. This is the most sacred spot in Judaism, also called the Wailing Wall. I can’t even begin to imagine all of the things that have taken place in that spot. It is the true epicenter of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Assuming it is open and there has not been violence, I plan on wearing the yarmulke my father gave me and to pray in his name, inserting my own written prayers in the wall as so many others have done before me.

While I do not believe in a holy spot or a holy land, I understand the meaning behind the terms. As I believe there is one who is holy and he’s not a thing but a being, it is to him that I am devoted, not a place or thing. I would rather use the term “sacred.” That word means a thing that points to or is connected to God.

But, admittedly, I like the sound of The Holy Land. I hope to be changed permanently by the experience, however that plays out. After all, that’s what pilgrims expect. Amen.