Tagged: Writing

Vengeance is Mine – God; Christianity = Pacifism

So I just read that book that I was so excited to read for school–War in the Bible and Terrorism in the Twenty-First Century. Good stuff.

I partook in a “war”. I can’t say I was a Christian during it, but I grew up believing I was a Christian and today my beliefs necessitate that I label myself the same–Christian. So you’re curious to know my conclusion after reading a few essays on whether Christianity condones war? Obviously the matter is complicated, but my head is clear. If I had the time to order a personalized bumper sticker, this is what I’d make it say:

“Vengeance is mine” – God.

Christianity = Pacifism.

 

On Seminary

As I keep sharing with folks that I’m excited to be in a masters program that is based in “purpose”, I keep getting the same response I already mentioned.

“You’re going to school to become a preacher?”

It seems, then, that a further note of clarification is in order.

No.

I never have, nor ever will believe in educating myself in order to gain financially. I went to college after high school because I wanted to be (first an FBI or CIA agent and finally) an Air Force officer and pilot. I wanted to “be” those things because of what they meant in and of themselves. Whether I was paid or not was never part of the equation. Becoming them required college, therefore, college.

But somewhere along the way learning became an end in addition to a means. For a Three Amigos plethora of reasons, I am now taking courses at a local seminary because I am interested, not in someday getting paid for my future and resultant mastery of all things evangelical Christianity, but rather I am interested in what a right relationship with God looks like. And this in order to determine if I want to pursue that sort of thing.

Put another way, there is a quote from Tom Selleck’s Mr. Baseball where he is exasperatedly explaining to the exceedingly high work-ethic filled Japanese team to which he’s been demoted that: “Baseball is a game and games are supposed to be fun.” Like Selleck’s delivery of this line, I can’t do more than encourage you to discover learning as an end. I can’t reason you into understanding this anymore than he can force the Japanese team to have fun.

Make sense?

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One more observation: It’s nice to be around people who can read aloud with confidence. (Maybe everyone in a masters program can, but for some reason I have been surprised that nobody elects to “pass” when it’s their turn to read and also that they don’t struggle with English. And even writing this now makes me suspicious. Should it really take a college degree to be able to read aloud?)

…Tenth

Oh, and one more observation to round out my first week at seminary.

Tenth, it feels amazing to be back in a place that uses B.C. and A.D. to describe dates in history.

When I was taking a few undergraduate writing courses for pleasure a year or so ago, I kinda shrugged off the new-to-me B.C.E. (before common era) and C.E. (common era) dating convention as, “that’s redonkulous, but whatever.” (If you’re older than me and haven’t been in college recently, these days colleges (maybe all schools?) call B.C., B.C.E., ie 700 B.C. is 700 B.C.E. and call years formerly designated as A.D., C.E.–this year is 2015 C.E.–not 2015 A.D.) (Too many parentheses–sorry–but does anyone else crack up that they couldn’t get away from the letters B and C?) Despite only being 34 years old, I feel like others must view me as a crotchety, old, slave-owning white man when I confess that I am happy to be among honest historians again. Seriously, how in the world can someone honestly describe what makes BCE change to CE without mentioning a certain Jew? (That’s a serious question. Tell me.)

Something For Nothing Or Something For Manther

My first thought when I visited www.wemadeamillionaire.com was to vomit. A social experiment where some anonymous person becomes a millionaire because a bunch of gullible suckers have nothing better to spend their money on than anonymous website builders? Right. A beggar is a beggar is a beggar. No, thank you–get a job like the rest of us.

More than that, just a few short months ago I’m pretty sure this entire world was sick of the 1%. Why would we want to create another one? And the idea that it would be interesting to see how this person would spend the money? Again, no, thank you.

But then I stumbled across something truly brilliant: www.wemadeacatmillionaire.com 

Here’s something I can get behind, I thought. Poor Manther! Removed from his life in the urban wilds and placed into virtual solitary confinement. Tssk, tssk. And the pictures. Manther is one handsome feline and yet he can’t catch a break, it seems.

Until now.

Someone, we may never know who, has taken up Manther’s cause. Someone, a clearly benevolent soul, has recognized injustice and was moved to action. Someone, a lion for the animal kingdom, has finally come to their senses. Because of that someone, we can all help Manther become a cat millionaire–perhaps the first cat millionaire.

Now I know what you’re thinking. I was thinking the same thing. Who even likes cats? And you’re right. I don’t like cats. But even I can’t deny the power of the photos. And the video! Oh emm gee. Manther just wants to do yoga.

Like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park, Manther doesn’t want to be fed, he wants to hunt.

Want to be a part of THE social experiment of 2015? Then visit WEMADEACATMILLIONAIRE. More than visit, DONATE! DONATE like I donated. I didn’t think I could scrape together the money, but there comes a time when each of us must silence our reason in order to hear our hearts. My heart said donate. Donate to Manther. Listen to your heart, people. Donate to Manther.

My Revision

I mentioned in post number one today that a theologian named Marcus Borg labeled Jesus of Nazareth a “movement initiator.” That’s funny to me because it’s so demonstrative of effort. Borg was a Believer, but he really thought that things weren’t good enough as is. He seemed to think, “Maybe if we change the words and labels more people will buy into this garbage.

“Messiah? Too old testament. Movement initiator? Brilliant!

“Christ? Too Greek. Che Guevara? That’s the ticket!

“Son of God? Too not-atheistic. Barack Obama? Exactly!”

Well, I have a revision of my own that I’d like to share. This one came to me the other morning. Different than a phrase, mine is an image. But I’m no artist, so I’ll do my best to describe the image.

To make it palatable, you need some backstory. The backstory is that a good friend, or former good friend (he has a girlfriend now and naturally we don’t talk anymore), is a little brother. And through conversations he shared with me that he has lent his big brother money and never been repaid–not that he ever expected to be. Why did he lend the big brother the money? Obviously love is the reason.

Most of you know that I, too, have a brother. But in my case, I am the big brother. So the other morning, I am reporting in to my little brother that a big conversation with the ex ended terribly and left me without hope, at least in the financial realm of life. As we chit-chatted via the wonder of texting, I jokingly asked him for money. (Actually, I asked him to buy me a house.) Suddenly, my friend’s situation came to mind, and I felt terrible because it occurred to me that maybe my question, despite being ridiculous and clearly a joke, would actually cause my little brother consternation because of how much he loves me. Still with me? I suddenly feared that I was becoming my friend’s douche-bag older brother who was taking advantage of his position in relation to my good friend. And that was not my intent at all.

Now, whether or not my little brother felt any pang of “maybe I should…” before he texted me a resolute “no”, a new version of Jesus’ attitude/demeanor before/during the crucifixion came to mind.

Mel Gibson and the events as recorded in the Gospels seem to have it that he willfully submitted to the punishment because he knew that it was what had to happen if we were ever to understand the better. But for today, at least, I’m kinda in love with this new revision of his emotional state at that trying time. Instead of willful submission, try picturing Jesus of Nazareth in a discussion with the human race. His side of the argument? “Listen to me. Life because better. I speak the truth.” Our side? “Prove it.”

And much like my friend, Jesus would really prefer to avoid the debate. Not because he doubts himself–no. But because he knows how far he will go to prove his conviction. He knows that he will do anything to convince humanity that he’s telling the truth–that he loves us more than he loves himself and that that’s because we deserve the love that we just won’t accept for some reason. So my revision of Jesus during the passion is an unkemptly bearded man pleading with me, a sure sadness in his eyes, “Please don’t ask me to prove it. Please.” And then to himself only, continuing, “Because I will. You don’t know how far I will go.”

Forgive me, brother. My request was in poor taste.

Simplifying Christianity With The Intent of Increasing Your Happiness

Get excited people. You don’t just get two, but three posts today. The third post on this random August day is coming in an hour. What? I just have a lot to say tonight. Exciting.

Before I became a hero, I always perceived civilians as mocking the military’s love of acronyms. How times have changed. This is relevant to Christianity and happiness (or eudaimonia) because I have simplified Christianity into three words. But I didn’t stop there. I want to promote the three words using their acronym. The reason I think this is the best marketing strategy is because it’s an acronym that sounds remarkably similar to another trending one. My acronym? LBB. See? One short syllable away from LBGT. You civilian pukes want acronyms? Well, this is the only one you need to know.

So what does LBB stand for? Life Because Better.

That’s what Christianity is all about. Better. I don’t think the LBGT crowd will mind too much that I’m ripping them off, because that whole thing is about better in its own way. (Though, I can’t deny that I am utterly shocked and yet wear a larger than life smile of amazement at life’s absurdities to include that anyone would ever celebrate gaining the ability to get married. That is one contract this confirmed bachelor will never enter into again.)

Some of what I’m about to argue just has to be felt in your heart. I’m not right, you’re not wrong. It just is. You either agree or you don’t.

History of Everything: The only relevant lesson.

God creates humanity with free will. Why? Why does he give us life? Because better. Life because better. LBB. In brief, God created humanity. Humanity went to shit (doh, sorry Dad, *). So he destroys everyone but one family and their animals and boat. Then God decides on this second go-around that he needs to be a more hands-on parent. So he chooses a group of people, (Jews), to use to teach the other groups of people that life can in fact be better than the fleeting pleasure found in raping your sister and mom and the livestock. How were the non-chosen people supposed to determine that they were missing out on happiness? They would notice that the Jews win more wars, get out of tight spots more often, and have an uncommon solidarity down through history despite not always, or hardly ever, being recognized as a nation-state. These Jews also had one only God, and a hope for a messiah.

Then, around the time of Jesus’ existence, the Jews really, really believed that a messiah was going to come and violently overthrow their current oppressors, like the Old Testament reported used to happen. But surprise, surprise, the man who claims to be the messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, enters the picture and instead of same-shit-different-day, he says the time has come to open up the ability to be a member of the people of God to anyone and everyone and that it has nothing to do with buildings and geography. He argues that the era of teaching the world what’s up through methods including violent revolution for the benefit of one segment of the population is over. He claims that a new history needs to begin and unlike ever before humanity as a whole is finally ready to accept the notion that life can be better. Life because better.

Life because better. LBB.

The best part of this story? It’s true. Life can be better. We can be kinder. We can not hurt each other. We can love our neighbor. We can be decent. We can respect each other for who we are. We can meet each other where we are.

Or not.

Truth be told, sometimes I like worse life. I like venting and ranting and name calling. I like doing it very articulately as I’ve tried to demonstrate on this blog. I like hating–a lot. Feels good. Not as good as loving, but sometimes really close.

At the end of the day, however, as I lay in bed I dream about the better. I wish I wouldn’t have said things, done things, or contributed to anyone else’s pain.

For me, the only person I’ve ever heard of who gives me hope that I can do life better tomorrow is Jesus of Nazareth. Not the current batch of intelligentsia, not Albert Einstein or Nietzsche, not any living person who thinks I’m totally wrong. You will be forgotten. I will be forgotten. It’s sad but true. Sorry. But he won’t be; he can’t be.

Life because better. LBB.

Americans, especially, the world is watching: Be the better. And give credit where credit’s due. It’s the only hope.

Simplifying Freud With The Intent Of Erasing His Dastard Influence On My Life (And Yours)

If I understand him correctly, Sigmund Freud preached a radical idea that quickly and firmly rooted itself in its mortal hearers. The idea? “If you want to be happy, blame your parents.” He didn’t want us to blame our parents for the trivial things like the shelter they provided or the food and water, but rather for the really important things or questions like, “Why do I hate myself?” and “Why can’t I keep my marriage together?” and “Why do I only like sex when it’s with strangers?”–you know, the really earth-shattering questions that must be solved if we’re to advance as a species.

Maybe it’s because I’m an honorary member (no voting rights) of MENSA, but I for one didn’t need Freud’s teaching to know that all of my problems were somebody else’s fault. But some of you might not be so smart, and so I want to start a movement. I want to be a movement initiator, the same title Marcus Borg used for Jesus of Nazareth. Unlike Jesus, my movement is to rid history of Freud’s influence. Too much of my time (and yours I’m guessing) is spent trying to figure out just how large a role my parents had in causing my life’s negative circumstances. (Oh, Dad, sorry, here’s the belated *.) Because I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I dream, I fantasize about what life must have been like before Freud. To just deal with problems as they come and quit imagining that happiness is possible if I only pinpoint exactly which spanking (all of them undeserved, as I remember it) led to me marrying my ex-wife.

Give me a break.

(The one after church on Sunday, August 30th, 1992 is my conclusion, btw).

Instead of Freud, I’d ask that we turn to Martin Heidegger, and eventually Him. Heidegger, a human, suggested that even as late as in the 20th century, philosophers were not asking the right question. The right question being, “Why do we wish to escape life?” Freud offers the idea that life can be better if we affix blame correctly; Heidegger, that life cannot be better as long as we keep trying to escape it.

Life is not in the past, it is not in the future. Life is right now.

Fuck Freud.

It’s Just Us, Daddy, Written by Pete Deakon and Illustrated by Kaelyn Williams Now Available On Kindle. Buy it!

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Who’s Fighting For The Leprechauns?

Constitution or no constitution, I think it’s a valid question.

And if my daughter’s classroom had anything to say about them around last St. Patty’s Day, what with chairs overturned and tables on their side, I wouldn’t want to piss those little guys off. They can be awfully mischievous.