Off Your Knees, On Your Feet

I performed at the Newport Mesa Irvine Interfaith Council’s National Day of Prayer Breakfast this morning at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach. As part of a two-member Unitarian Universalist delegation, it would seem, as my minister apparently opted to sleep in. Oh well. I was impressed by the diversity and sensitivity of the occasion; they even had the chafing dishes of bacon and sausage clear on the other side of the room from the eggs and potatoes out of respect for the Jews and Muslims in attendance. I was also impressed by the presence of a local imam, particularly by his quoting of the Holy Qur’an, as the current state of world affairs behooves us all to increase our awareness of the true Islamic faith. I mean this sincerely — I have next to zero knowledge about that particular religion and even less about its holy book. Finally, I was glad to see a significant Mormon presence, surprising to me as they’ve been conspicuously absent from most of the other interfaith activities I’ve attended. But maybe that was just a fluke.

I had planned to remark on the requisite lack of atheist representation this morning, but it’s becoming clearer to me that the Unitarian Universalists are essentially the atheist — or failing that, deeply cynical agnostic — presence at the interfaith table. And how fitting that only two of us showed up! While neither Beth (my Music Director, who played piano with me today) nor I are atheists, we sat there unconsciously muttering corrections under our breath during the keynote address, given by Peter Vidmar, a former Olympian and active Latter-Day Saint. Not out of disrespect or even irritation — more out of habit than anything else. All things considered, it was a good way to start the day. It even made me forget the fact that I’ve got to drive back down this afternoon and do it all again.

Today is the National Day of Prayer; in this time of war, make the observance of this day a priority. Regardless of religion — you too, atheists and pagans — please contact your local blood bank and give blood today. Get off your knees on and on your feet, and let your actions be your prayer.

Witnessing, UU Style

I had to be at church at 8:30 this morning (meaning I had to leave my house at 7:30 — total crap), and when I pulled into the parking lot I noticed a scruffy-looking guy just sitting in his Buick puffing a cigar. Thinking nothing of it, I grabbed my stuff and started to head up to the sanctuary when he stopped me:

HIM: Hey, when does the church service start?
ME: Oh, the first is at 9:15 — more of a meditative one — and the contemporary service is at 11:00.
HIM: (glancing toward the church) So do you preach out of the King James Bible?

I paused and bit my lip, laughing a little. I couldn’t help it.

ME: Um, no. Not quite.
HIM: So it’s something completely different?
ME: Well…let’s just say we’re a church that teaches you how to think, not what to think.
HIM: Ah. Well, that settles it.

Now, failing to notice the conspicuous lack of a cross anywhere on the church grounds can be understood, but I’m at a loss to imagine what KJV-believing church flies a giant Pride flag in plain view on a busy Orange County street.

It’s In Our Hands

“Now, aren’t we scaring ourselves unnecessarily? Aren’t we trying too hard? It’s in our hands. It always was.” — Björk, “It’s In Our Hands”

This is a daily ritual for me. Glorious.

If

If there’s a Hell
then God designed it;
If Evil came to be
then She created it.
Was it part of Her plan?
You tell me –
pick one, though.
Is She all-loving?
All-knowing?
If so, then how did such a
MONSTROUS
detail
escape Her attention?

Don’t let me fry,
just let me die.

I am not sacred enough
to be sure
but neither am I evil enough.

I envy the world with no Hell,
for there is nothing that can be done
in a finite span of time
that warrants an eternity of fire.
A thousand lifetimes
a trillion, even
trillion times trillion
but never an eternity.

That’s their secret,
our fear held in an open palm,
for without it,
the bearers of the Cross have no dominion
over (me) the world.

It is the padlock on my chains.
It is my sentence.
It holds me fast,
stops the breath in my throat.

Tell me
which is the more loving of the two:
a world with no reward
or a world with no punishment?

Tell me
when did we stop concerning ourselves
with joy
self-control
respect
intelligence
faith
life
in favor of doing just enough –
just enough to escape Your wrath
while maligning those who chose
another route?

Tell me
when did our moral compass
reverse polarity;
when did we start awarding godhood
to the ones who deal hatred
like a deck of cards?

Tell me. I’m listening.

You asked for honesty and openness,
and I am the most honest I’ve ever been.
The cries of Your children are falling on deafness
on apathy!
Even worse
they fall on nothing at all.

I’m listening. In Jesus’ name I pray.

Perhaps things are
as Adams said –
perhaps God disappears
in a puff of logic.

I pray to You he is wrong.

But if they’re right
and irrationality reigns supreme,
I pray to You
that I’ve only ever been talking to myself.

Virtue

When I was in junior high, I tried to save my best friend’s soul by taking him to church. But it was mine that needed to be saved. And as for him? His cup as always been full.

I have learned that there is more to be accomplished in keeping my mouth shut, by living with dignity rather than showmanship. By finding the sacred in the mundane.

There is more to be found outside the sanctuary walls.

God is in open fifths. And oh, how I worship.

He Is Risen!

Just kidding. Or not, depending on what religious tradition you may come from. I, for one, am soaking up the religious freedom that is still very much alive and well in our fine country. For example:




In other news, I read “This Blessed Lenten Season” at both of my church’s Easter services this morning. It was a packed house and was received very well — it was nice to bring it out and expose it to air. I very rarely do anything of that sort, and I’m thinking perhaps I’d like to make a habit of it. Stay tuned!

Happy Easter to all of you.

Sacred Profanity

I’m energized by speaking to rational, intelligent individuals with worldviews completely opposite from mine. Similarly, I find myself drawn to objects — whether fine arts or otherwise — that are simultaneously beautiful and grotesque, or even terrifying. To my delight, on Sunday I got two handfuls of both.
(Keep reading…)

Gentle, Angry People

“I ain’t afraid of your Yahweh. I ain’t afraid of your Allah. I ain’t afraid of your Jesus. I’m afraid of what you do in the name of your God.” — Holly Near, “I Ain’t Afraid”

Every year, longtime social activist and singer/songwriter Holly Near swings down to Orange County and gives a concert at my church, always to a packed house. This year the date was set for yesterday evening, and I was fortunate enough to be able to attend — on a comp, no less! Admittedly, prior to about a month ago I’d only ever heard of her once — and even then it was through a passing reference in one of Erma Bombeck’s books — so I really didn’t know what to expect, although I was definitely hoping for a good old fashioned “We Shall Overcome” moment or two. And as it turns out, that’s exactly what I got.
(Keep reading…)

This Blessed Lenten Season

I stopped attending church on a regular basis almost eight years ago, but the various minutiae of my evangelical Christian upbringing have not faded from my memory at all. So when I joined the Unitarian Universalist church about six months ago (think Buddhists who got trapped at a Benny Hinn revival weekend), I was very curious to see how we would handle the traditional church calendar, if at all. For example, our observance of the Christmas season predictably favored the more pagan elements, of which there are more than I thought, and thus was more of a three-week Winter Solstice celebration with a light sprinkling of Baby Jesus and a menorah stashed nonchalantly in a corner. Therefore, I can only assume that Easter — an unimpeachably Christian holiday — will come and go in a flurry of egg hunts and hymns to nature, but as the observance of Lent doesn’t necessarily connote any manner of religious attachment, I’ve wondered whether or not anyone in my congregation finds such a thing personally meaningful.

You see, my best friend gave up beef for Lent. Kind of. Which I think is refreshing, as for the most part he’s never cared much for religion and thus it’s usually me who’s given to unpredictably frantic outbursts of religious fervor, so it’s nice to pass the torch along. The fact that his wife is a lapsed Catholic — very, very lapsed — completes the scenario quite elegantly. As for me, even before I left the Christian church I would use this time of the year to make some flip remark about how I’d given up Lent for Lent. Now I just say that I’ve given up crystal meth, but only until Easter — then West Hollywood, here I come! And to the surprise of exactly no one, this particular brand of antipathy is fairly common among my fellow church members.

So I’ve come to this conclusion: Unitarians don’t do Lent. We do Happy Hour.
(Keep reading…)

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