MarkM

my final post on Conversant Life

MarkM — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 17:36:17 -0800

It’s time to move on.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been writing for Conversant Life for two years. I’ve enjoyed it tremendously, and I’m deeply grateful for the many people who have engaged my writing with a patient and steadfast grace. I think I’ve grown as a person, and I owe a steep debt to the Conversant Life community.

But lately I’ve been getting restless. Admittedly, that’s my nature. I’ve never been a good maintainer; I’m better at growing things and moving along. And I’ve been wanted to write on some issues that are beyond the normal range for Conversant Life, so I’ve been considering a new space. After some sorting, I decided to move to a new site, markwmeehan.blogspot.com.

I want to say thanks again to Stan Jenz and the Conversant Life team for encouraging and facilitating my work. Such a great group of people! I hope and pray that Conversant Life fully realizes its vision to be a place of thoughtful dialogue. With media creating schisms on a daily basis, Conversant Life can have a unique role in bringing people together.

So come on over for a visit. I will be posting new items ona weekly basis, hoping to broaden the community that thoughtfully engages issues of the day.

Stereotypes For Thanksgiving

MarkM — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 14:35:27 -0800

I find stereotypes very convenient. They’re just so handy when an SUV with NJ plates cuts me off in traffic, and I can instantly assign the driver’s rudeness to a function of their geographic origin. Sometimes my stereotypes are kind of knee-jerk reactions, like when I’m driving. At other times they simmer quietly, like when I see a local southern guy at church wearing a pink oxford, a brass-buttoned blue blazer, and a bow tie.

I’m not sure that negative stereotypes can exist without the opposite, more accurate positive narratives to be true. As I pedal my Trek to work, I can believe/expect/assume most people are not going to run red lights, but will stop carefully and let me cross the street intact. When the Jersey boy in the white Nissan blows past, I apply the stereotype because he stands out; he’s the exception to the rule. It’s the greater positive reality that allows the lesser, negative stereotype to exist. Negative stereotypes are created in response to a small few, but such generalizations slake our cynical thirst to categorize and simplify.

I read a poem this morning by Taha Muhammad Ali, a Palestinian poet who runs a gift shop in Nazareth. I like this poem, because it points out another narrative, the other stereotype of Arabs that is positive and more true than the negative. Be warned: it’s not a stereotype that will make it easy to hate Arabs, justify foreign policy, or sell media. But it’s true, truer than the negative. And I’m deeply glad for that. By God’s grace, the positive stereotypes are what I want to reflect on this Thanksgiving. Communities are strong. People are kind. They care. And that makes me thankful.

Taha Muhammad Ali

Abd El-Hadi Fights a Superpower

In his life
he neither wrote nor read.
In his life he
didn't cut down a single tree,
didn't slit the throat
of a single calf.
In his life he did not speak
of the New York Times
behind its back,
didn't raise
his voice to a soul
except in his saying:
"Come in, please,
by God, you can't refuse."

. . .

Nevertheless -
his case is hopeless,
his situation
desperate.
His God-given rights are a grain of salt
tossed into the sea.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury:
about his enemies
my client knows not a thing.
And I can assure you,
were he to encounter
the entire crew
of the aircraft carrier Enterprise,
he'd serve them eggs
sunny-side up,
and labneh
fresh from the bag.

States of Democracy

MarkM — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 17:12:01 -0800

Perhaps Architect Frank Gehry’s most famous building stands in Bilbao, Spain. His design is framed with steel and sheaved in titanium. This sculpture, created to display art, opened in 1997 to immediate acclaim. Gehry responded to all the noise by noting, “I do think architecture is a profession that deserves to have its masterpieces and occasionally somebody manages to eke one out. Not everybody can do it and, God knows, I didn’t know I could.”

Bilbao lies at the heart of the Basque region of Spain, an area long torn by the terrorism of Basque separatists. Gehry has discussed his design as an attempt to represent the idea of “democracy.” He created a building that appears to be breaking apart; fitful pieces slide askew, yet remain together, fixed in space. The sheets of titanium reflect the sun above and the water below; a shifting façade responsive to rippling water and clouds sliding by. It’s a building that is a collective whole, yet made up of distinctively separate pieces. It changes daily, even moment by moment. It looks, and acts, like a democracy. Bilbao needed a reminder of the dynamic and unsteady nature of the democratic ideal.

In Leaves of Grass, perhaps one of the most American of poems, Walt Whitman wrote “One’s self I sing, a simple, separate Person. Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En Masse.” Like Gehry, Whitman noted the strange shifting between the role of the individual and the importance of the collective whole. We all get one vote, then we collectively live with what the majority has chosen. Whitman wrote his masterpiece throughout his life (some count as many as ten formal editions), writing, erasing, writing again, between 1855 and 1892. This creative journey framed the period of the United States’ Civil War, a period of time when Americans, like the Spaniards in Bilbao, needed a reminder about the shifting and persistent nature of democracy.

I have come to enjoy how persistent our democracy is. Fox News, MSNBC, John Stewart and many others have discovered profitable niche programming in providing news that a specific market segment likes to hear. I guess we are all the same: when people say stuff that we agree with, we feel reassured. Validation via the prophetic prattle pronounced on the flat screen.

We need to remember. Democracy shifts, flexes, and reflects. Whitman’s poem and Gehry’s building can speak to us today. Yes, we seem to be more torn than ever. The Senate is divided, the House is split in half. But maybe that’s part of the process; the rippling of the water and the passing of a cloud. The ideal of democracy never really promised the appearance of political stability, only an ethical ideal balanced precariously between the fixed points of freedom and community.

The State of Race

MarkM — Sat, 06 Nov 2010 07:21:00 -0700

Last week I watched a peculiar parade. I saw police arranging long, white barricades at the end of my block, so my dog and I decided to take a walk and find out what was happening. From beyond the crest of a hill on Sumter Street, we could feel the roll of bass drums and hear the staccato brass of a marching band. In a moment, floats appeared over the horizon, candy was tossed, and there were smiles all around.

But that’s not why it was a peculiar parade. Two things were odd: as I looked around, I realized that I was the only white person standing among the crowds on the sidewalk. Hmmm. The second thing: no white people in the parade. It went on, an hour of high school marching bands (8), floats (20), politicians (close to election day), and little girls in leotards (countless) twirling chrome batons with scuffed rubber tips. And no one in the parade was white. It was a Black parade on a sunny South Carolina Saturday morning.

So what’s up? Were white people not invited? If they were, did they not want to come? It turns out that the parade was part of the homecoming day celebration for Benedict College, a Historically Black College in Columbia. The race lines had been drawn years ago. The University of South Carolina was a “whites-only school” when Benedict was founded in 1870, about five years after Confederates signed the surrender at Appomattox. The racial barriers were formalized as “separate but equal” was declared by the US Supreme Court, later lived out under Jim Crow law. So what I was watching last week was something of a racial habit, perhaps on a good day it could be called a “tradition.” The Benedict parade was an example of humans sticking to what they are used to: Separate but equal,as they do their thing and we do ours. Old habits die hard on both sides.

Some have said that race issues are over because we have a Black President. I think the fact that President Obama is in office is a step forward, a beautiful reflection of America beginning to live up to its ideals. But I also recognize that, in a way, he is a compromise. He’s a Black man with a white mother. He’s a Harvard graduate. He’s a college Professor who lived in an upscale Chicago suburb, a far cry from the broken neighborhoods where he did his community organizing. President Obama is not just a victory for race relations, but a representative from the gray area between white and black, a step between separate but equal.

Maybe that’s the real victory we can see in President Obama. He represents an America willing to step beyond racial habits into a new space that represents our greater shared ideals. A compromise does not mean race relations have changed dramatically, the Black parades in America continue in many forms. But perhaps having a compromise will lead to more, as others step from their Black and White racial habits into the shifting grey space that lies between.

Why I'll Vote on Tuesday

MarkM — Sun, 31 Oct 2010 12:08:20 -0700

I have to admit it. I’ve been totally grossed out by the political chaos that has flooded the United States this fall. I stopped watching the Daily Show, gave up on reading New York Times editorials, and ignored big speeches by our President.

But last week, my wife and I watched the Ken Burns documentary on the American Congress. If you have not seen it, the film takes you on a two hour trip from the very beginning of the American Government until the mid ‘80s. Frankly, it’s a frightening journey. The Revolution, the Civil War,Civil Rights, the Bosses from the industrial revolution. Such a peril filled fight from the very beginning.

But somehow, hearing Woodrow Wilson say “the government, which was designed for the people, has got into the hands of the bosses and their employers, the special interests. An invisible empire has been set up above the forms of democracy,” was not depressing, it was encouraging. After all, workers were protected and new laws passed on monopolies. Government governed, and it got some things right.

After the film, my wife and I walked slowly home, passing through the block of arboretum-like State Capitol grounds in central Columbia. We stopped to join a rally being held at the Capitol building to support Gay teens who were being/had been bullied and abused. As my wife and I stood holding rapidly melting white candles, trying not to let wax drip on our shoes, I was struck by the hundreds of South Carolinians who had turned out for the event. In fact, the building itself had been transformed, as rainbow streamers covered the front and purple lights glowed on the tall bank of white marble stairs.

This is the same building that my family and I marched on ten years earlier, in protest of the red Confederate battle flag flying over its dome and hung inside its Congressional chambers. Ten years later the flag is down and rainbow banners cover the stairs. Not bad.

So I’m slipping out of my burnout, like a snake slipping an old skin. I’m not delusional. I don’t expect change “I can believe in” to happen overnight. The United States is in a perilous place, fighting two wars,dividing ourselves at home, and facing a national bankruptcy. But! We have been in similar places before. We still exist. I’m part of this crazy system and on Tuesday, I’m going to vote.

Forsaking Eden

MarkM — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 11:48:57 -0700

It’s a perfect October day in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Bright fall sunshine, with just enough southern heat to warm the chilly air as the northern hemisphere tips back from the sun. 100 degrees and sultry is a dim memory, as Confederate weather is redeemed by the fall.

It’s a day to be spent outside, which happily reminds me of both my own mortality and my eternity. Seasons piercingly pronounce the shortness of my own life, but the bright green still clinging to my mother-in-law’s lawn speaks of vitality and the stubbornness of life in creation.

I sat outside reading a new (to me) philosopher, Seyyed Hossein Nasr. A prodigy from Iran, he was the first Iranian to graduate from MIT, completing a degree in physics in 1954. He went on to Harvard (like most prodigies!) and finished his PhD at the ripe old age of 25. His dissertation reflected a shift from physics to philosophy. Perhaps he moved from the particulars to the universals as he observed the vivid dilemma of contemporary American society.

As a Muslim, Dr Nasr beautifully connects nature to eternity. In his 2002 work, “Islam and the Plight of Modern Man,” he speaks poignantly to what happens when humans dismiss their connection to nature, and what such a disconnection means. “But very few have realized that the pollution of the environment is no more than the after-effect of a pollution of the human soul, which came into being the moment Western man decided to play the role of the Divinity upon the surface of the earth and chose to exclude the transcendent dimension from his life.”

Dr. Nasr reminded me of a poem by John Clare, who witnessed the dawning of the industrial age and knew, even then, of what Nasr would lament 100 years later. If we separate ourselves from God, viewing nature as something to manipulate for a materialistic end, we end up lost, polluted, and yearning for an Eden. As I sat outside today, I was reminded, once again.

John Clare (1793-1864)

Lines: “I Am”

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And even the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

Why Christians are Angry with Islam

MarkM — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 11:42:49 -0700

Ticia and I live in the center of Columbia SC, what a Re-Max realtor might call a “developing area.” You know, “those buildings are boarded up now, but I hear there’s a Pop Eye’s Chicken coming!” Lots of homeless people standing quietly on our block all day; the Rescue Mission kicks them out at 7am. And, in keeping with the “Developing Locale!” theme, there are two competing Loan businesses on the first floor of our building, both offering quick cash with no credit check. “Just give us your car’s title papers, we’ll work out the details later.”

Ticia and I have a hard time with these loan places. They further poverty by offering a quick fix at great expense. Sure, you have cash in your pocket, but in reality, you just bought a very costly distraction.

I have to admit, the loan guys are smart. We all like to live this way, and they know it. There is something intrinsically human about focusing on the immediate and evident in order to ignore the deep and difficult. Do email and don’t think about the checkbook. Work longer hours and tune out the difficult marriage. It’s part of being human.

And I wonder, how does this apply to our theology? Robert Wright just wrote a New York Times Opinion piece on the Koran and the Bible. He focused on the human capacity to embrace one thing in order to ignore something else. On both sides! Emphasize “infidels” while ignoring peace, hate on “others” while neglecting love.

Wright asks, “Why do people tend to hear only one side of the story? A common explanation is that the digital age makes it easy to wall yourself off from inconvenient data, to spend your time in ideological “cocoons,” to hang out at blogs where you are part of a choir that gets preached to. Makes sense to me. But, however big a role the Internet plays, it’s just amplifying something human: a tendency to latch onto evidence consistent with your worldview and ignore or downplay contrary evidence.”

I thought about the whole anti-Islam thing that’s happening in the United States today, the Tea Party Protesters, the general discord and anger, and that many of the people at the front of the protests, carrying a white poster board sign stapled onto a stiff wood stick, are committed Christians. The rhetoric is often biblical and the passion is real. I wonder if they are being duped.

It is so easy to focus on something simple, something obvious, and make that obvious thing the point of our righteous Christian wrath. But as we focus on political and religious “enemies,” Jesus says “sell everything and give it to the poor.” “Can’t be rich and get into the kingdom of heaven.” Fat rich guys trying to squeeze through an eye-of-the-needle kind of stuff. But we avoid. We shrug, blink twice, scream “Islam is of the devil!!!!!” Repeating the extremist mistake ourselves.

Is Islam more of a threat to Americans than consumerism? Why are the potential deaths from a terrorist attack scarier than the current deaths caused by global warming? Are we focused in order to avoid?

Maybe we steer clear of real issues by focusing on what’s obvious and easy. It seems to me that if we took the scriptures seriously that deal with possessions and justice, we might have to change our lives. Sell something. Give up a piece of the “American Dream.” Change.

It's far easier to be angry at Muslims.

Generation Ex-Church: A look from the other side.

MarkM — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 09:47:51 -0700

My wife and I were surprised to see an old friend the other day in downtown Columbia. After the usual “how are you?” small talk and some shuffling of feet, my wife and I learned that he was dealing with a terminal illness in his family. He’s an amazing guy, with the kind of deep and abiding faith that is expressed more in his life than in obnoxious bumper stickers or WWJD bracelets. He’s a person I deeply respect.

Ticia and I walked away, shaken by the news of impending death, and thought about the local church he is a member of, grateful for how strongly it supports him in a time of profound need. Taking care of kids, helping with food, being there to listen, praying. It’s beautiful. And it’s the way it should be. And I’m glad he has that faith family.

And it’s the same family that we left ten years ago. The church was going through a very difficult time, with a pastor coming out about a struggle with pornography while a large group within the church wanting to leave to plant a new one. Lines were drawn and sides were taken. We refused to take a side, and all of a sudden, close friends refused to speak to us. Older believers that we greatly respected essentially shunned us. We have grown and forgiven, but we’ll never forget how that felt.

And it points out the dichotomy of my own feelings toward the local church. I love it. I need it. I appreciate it. And it offends me. It confounds me. Last week we went to a local church for Sunday service. A vast worship center, kept at a chilly and dry 65 degrees. Lots of seer-sucker suits and pearls. A massive organ. Hymns. A passionate sermon about serving others. I ended up having a cigarette with a homeless guy (who adamantly asserted his name was Charlie Chaplain) on the front steps. All the words being spoken, in the setting Americans expect at Church, refused to acknowledge the reality immediately outside of its large oak doors. Too much for me.

I’ve been reading the flurry of headlines (and blogs) about people leaving “the church.” Generation Ex-Church and all that. Most are written by people who are committed to maintain the status quo, and so they come at it from a very specific point of view (let’s get these people to come back!). Tell them stories. Use more movie clips in sermons. Develop Youth Group programs that can compete with Wii.

As the shift out of church continues, local church members who refuse to leave or change will decry the choices of others to walk away for a while. It’s easiest for these maintainers to make it a spiritual issue, and so labels like “Ex-Christian” emerge, which equates to “God likes me and my commitment and he does not approve of you.”

Well, enough of that BS. A few encouragements for those in “Generation Ex-Christian” who are looking for life outside of the local church:

You don’t have to equate membership in a local church with being a “Christian.” I know about “don’t forsake the assembling of yourselves.” And if you actually look at that verse, it does not continue with “on Sunday Morning at 11am in straight rows of wooden benches with red padding.” We added that part ourselves. Barna’s recent book, Revolution, found that most evangelical churches don’t do what they say they do. They don’t evangelize, don’t help people grow spiritually, and don’t support the development of vital prayer lives, etc. They do assuage guilt by allowing people to give one specific hour of their week “to God,” which I guess is something. But I doubt that’s what the good book meant with the whole “assembling yourselves” thing. Instead, find a friend to read a book with. Commit to prayer with your spouse. Assemble yourselves around the truth found in a good movie. Growing together is good.

You don’t have to define your identity by belonging to a sectarian club. Many Christians define their identity by the local church they are part of. Thus, when you meet a fellow Christian at a “Hot Dogs Praise” event at the local semi-pro baseball park, the first question is “what church are you a part of?” The subtext is “what do you believe? Are you theologically conservative? Do we agree politically? Will my Sarah Palin Mama Grizzly Lampshades in the living room offend you?” It’s so simple, it’s so easy. Answer all the hard questions by identifying with a specific Christian club. It allows people to live without having to think about things. As long as you toe the party line, all the pre-packaged answers fit the questions. At least for a while. Instead, maybe it’s time to think about what you believe. Try it out by meeting others who don’t agree. Join a book club that reads books you wouldn’t normally read. Get a tattoo and talk to the people in the shop. Expanding your horizons is good.

You don’t have to spend all your time doing club activities with other Christians. Many times, my family and I spent time with other Christians because it was easy. No conflict, no rubbing the wrong way. And the time we could spend! Potlucks/Wednesday night family meetings/Sunday school/Sunday worship/Sunday prayer/Small groups! All of it designed to reinforce previously held views, reassuring and shallow. Today my wife and I get to hang out with the homeless people that live on our street. We can volunteer with Gay Community initiatives and actually get to know people who are not Christians. And no one judges us for not showing up at the Sponge Bob Jesus Pants Praise Party. And guess what? The people we are meeting are a lot like us. They love to celebrate when good things happen, they grieve over pain and loss. Growing to know others is good.

When I think about local church, I think about a twist on an old saying: “if the shoe does not fit, get a new one.” Some of us may have developed calluses from ill-fitting shoes that have deadened how badly the shoes actually fit. “But we like these shoes! They look nice! These are the shoes that God likes!” Then again, maybe they are only the shoes that we are used to. Maybe they make us look funny. Maybe the rest of the world does not want those shoes because they see how badly we walk in them. Maybe the best thing we could do is get rid of those shoes, go barefoot for a while, and learn how to walk without them.

A Muslim-American College offers hope, but needs help

MarkM — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 18:07:12 -0700

With all the election-year nonsense being spouted about the Islamic Cultural Center in New York, I thought it interesting to see the emergence of another cultural influence on the other coast. This fall, Zaytuna College is opening its doors as a small, faith-based institution in the San Francisco Area. Faculty hope to assist students to integrate faith and learning, the curriculum includes intentional spiritual formation, and the College’s vision extends to the shaping of American society.

What, another Christian college? Don’t we already have plenty of those around? While it might sound like your typical Evangelical college, it’s not. It’s a Muslim College, with the Koran as a firm foundation. The stated mission of the college is to “educate and prepare morally committed professional, intellectual, and spiritual leaders, who are grounded in the Islamic scholarly tradition and conversant with the cultural currents and critical ideas shaping modern society.”

I find this so exciting. Here is a place where ideas in Islam can be vetted, discussed, and developed. Zaytuna College has beautiful potential for those who fear an extreme version of Islam, as the college pursues a vision to deepen American Islamic scholarship by developing approaches that are true to the Koran, but also appropriately engaged in postmodern America.

And as I thought about it, it struck me that Zaytuna College is firmly in the tradition of another important element of American Higher Education, the Christian College. I know, but I mean beyond the obvious differences in belief:

Integrating faith and learning: Faculty lead students in discovering and developing deep connections between their personal faith and the knowledge found in professional study. In contrast to secular colleges, these institutions embrace a world view that includes faith, instead of trying to remove it.

Spiritual formation: The belief that a college has a responsibility to not only develop academic programs, but also to create programs that serve the spiritual development of students, faculty and staff. Humans are complex beings and a college needs to address the total person.

A view to change society: Institutions of faith are explicit in their intention to graduate students who see beyond the typical “get a job, get married, live life.” The integration of faith and learning, as well as the intentional spiritual formation, are expected to produce students who see the greater needs in the society they are a part of, the areas of culture that can be impacted toward a faith orientation.

So who is going to help Zaytuna develop as a vitally important institution in American higher education? They have a lot of work to do. As a brand new college, they face the daunting challenges of accreditation, creating a solid financial foundation, and recruiting and hiring qualified faith-oriented faculty.

Might I suggest? Christian colleges know how to be distinctive as faith-based institutions in an American educational context. They understand how to address standards for accreditation, while working from a sectarian perspective. But here’s the rub: it’s going to take an Evangelical institution to do it. The more liberal Christian colleges in America have long given up the distinctives that Evangelical institutions share with Zaytuna. I wonder if there is an evangelical institution that can see beyond the obvious differences, take a step, and really engage the “Islamic Issue” in the United States.

If you want to see more about Zaytuna College, here’s their site: www.zaytunacollege.org

An Islamic Cultural Center?

MarkM — Sat, 14 Aug 2010 17:36:40 -0700

The Islamic Cultural Center! The ISLAMIC cultural center? The Islamic CULTURAL center? Depends on which news you watch and what papers you read. To some, it sounds like the second choice. Sarah Palin has weighed in. Jon Stewart made his views known. President Obama gave a speech, after Mayor Bloomberg finally came out of his civil rights closet to make a solid statement.

And I really don’t get what the fuss is about. As if there are not already two mosques located within four blocks of the trade center site, one of which predated the building of the World Trade Center. In fact, none other than Fox news recently reported that “New York City has more than 100 mosques . . . more than 800,000 of its 8.21 million residents are Muslims, said Philip Banks III, chief of the NYPD Community Affairs Bureau.” My friends, New York City has more Muslims than the entire populations of two Islamic nations: Bahrain and Qatar.

But it’s more than numbers. And here is the rub that I see. Just as Al-Qaeda Muslims lump all Americans into one world-destroying pile (conveniently labeled “infidels”), some American’s want to do the same thing to Muslims. We equate the God-fearing, peace loving Muslims of America with the militant nut cases duct-taping bombs under their button downs. By resorting to simple fear and ignorance, we end up denying Americans the same rights the terrorists tried to destroy. President Obama said it pretty well. In reference to the first responders on 9/11, he stated “We do not honor their lives by denying the very Constitutional rights they died protecting. We honor their lives by defending those rights — and the freedoms that the terrorists attacked.”

I suspect that the Americans who are opposing the rights of Muslims to worship are heading down the same path as Al-Qaeda. Fearful of what they don’t understand, they strike out blindly, perhaps hitting their target, but injuring others as well. In their flurry of activity, they dehumanize people by denying them God-given rights that distinguish the United States from Afghanistan. If they succeed, it’s pretty clear where they are leading us.