Friday, March 30, 2007

Pause to welcome the coming of Spring

Winter was late in arriving this year, but it made up for its tardiness by lingering longer than is often the case. Most conspicuously, it made a liar out of famed groundhog prognosticator Punxatawney Phil, who allegedly failed to see his shadow on February 2nd, thus ensuring an early spring. As the saying goes... "Not!"

But now at last it seems that spring is finally in the air. That air seems softer, moister, and is graced with the song of birds: both the winter birds that have weathered the cold and storms with us, such as the cardinals, chickadees, and downy woodpeckers, and the newer arrivals, such as American robins, who have returned from wherever they take shelter from winter's cold.

It used to be said that robins migrated south, to return again in the spring; more recently, studies have revealed that our local robins, at least, often seek shelter in wetland thickets, where decaying marsh vegetation moderates the ambient temperature, and clumps of brush break the wind. Another good reason these wetlands should be preserved.

Other migrants are on the move, too: although many of the geese we see in this area are residents, meandering from pond to lake to farm field, also visible -- or audible -- are high-flying V's of migratory geese. The great conservationist Aldo Leopold considered these the surest sign of spring, writing, in A Sand County Almanac:

"One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of a March thaw, is the spring. A cardinal, whistling spring to a thaw but later finding himself mistaken, can retrieve his error by resuming his winter silence… But a migrating goose, staking two hundred miles of black night on the chance of finding a hole in the lake, has no easy chance for retreat. His arrival carries the conviction of a prophet who has burned his bridges."

"A March morning," he asserts, "is only as drab as he who walks in it without a glance skyward, ear cocked for geese. I once knew an educated lady, banded by Phi Beta Kappa, who told me that she had never heard or seen the geese that twice a year proclaim the revolving seasons to her well-insulated roof. Is education," asked the man known to his loyal graduate students as "The Professor," "possibly a process of trading awareness for something of lesser worth?"

That question resounds through the decades since it was penned, and may well prove fodder for another column. But for now, it is enough to fling open the windows, step out through the door, and open our awareness to the changing season: winter into spring, the wheel of the year turning from the season of darkness, rest, inwardness, and even, yes, death and decay, toward the season of unfolding, opening, blossoming, growth -- rebirth and burgeoning life.

For all our scientific knowledge, the process by which a bulb sends out a shoot that pushes through the earth to become a crocus, daffodil, or tulip, a tree-bud contains the complete essence of the coming season's growth of branch, leaf, and flower, or a seed unfolds to become an herbaceous plant, shrub, or tree, is still something which smacks of mystery and wonder.

Just as mysterious and wonderful are the guidance systems that steer flocks of neo-tropical migrants, our beloved summer songbirds, from their winter haunts in Central and South America to grace our woods and fields, our backyards and even city parks. They are already beginning their journey, and the next month or two will see a veritable explosion of color and birdsong.

The end of winter and the coming of spring may not have quite the impact on us climate-controlled and industrially-fed urbanites and suburbanites that it did on earlier agriculturalists, nomadic herders, or hunter-gatherers. But the tides of spring still flow in all of our blood, if we could but shut off the flood of external stimuli -- traffic, radio, TV, CDs and DVDs, and the internet, among other sources -- that constantly bombard us, quiet the racing of our minds, and open our windows and our senses to the turn of the seasons.

No matter the stresses and pressures of our workaday lives, let's each take a moment, sometime this week, to go outside, stand quietly on the good earth, close our eyes, open our ears and nostrils, and breathe deeply of the essence of spring. I don't doubt that we'll be the better for it.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The raw facts on raw milk

This essay was originally written as a column in response to a piece appearing in the Carrroll County Times, for which I write. But it was overtaken by other events, and never appeared. Here 'tis:

In a recent Marketplace essay entitled "Risk comes with consuming raw milk, products,” agricultural extension educator Mike Bell asserted that "raw milk can harbor dangerous microorganism that can pose serious health risks to you and your family."

Well, yes. That's true. It can. But -- and this is a big "but" -- there is a long way between "can" and "does." Mr. Bell states that according to the CDC, more than 800 people have gotten sick from consuming raw milk or raw milk cheese since 1998. I'm no math expert, but that calculates out to, on average, less than a hundred cases a year, nationwide.

Liz Reitzig, President of the Maryland Independent Consumers and Farmers Association, reports that "according to the CDC, there are 73 million cases a year of food borne illness, virtually all of which are from regulated, industrial, licensed food products." Of the relative handful in which raw milk is implicated, "most are from raw milk intended for pasteurization, not from a small farmer carefully preparing raw milk for direct consumption." Furthermore, she notes, "Pasteurized milk accounts for several hundred cases of food borne illness each year," again according to CDC figures.

Other assertions are similarly misleading. The question of the role of enzymes in digestion and health is far too complex to fit into a column, but suffice it to say that qualified experts have also challenged and, to my satisfaction, refuted Mr. Bell's assertion that our bodies don't use enzymes contained in food to assist our own metabolic process. It seems quite clear that our digestive system does indeed utilize food enzymes, when present, to spare our own and make digestion easier.

While it is true that pasteurization kills most (though not all) harmful bacteria that may be present, beneficial microorganisms, commonly known as probiotics, are also killed in the process. These would otherwise aid digestion and strengthen the immune system. And while some enzymes, and some beneficial microorganisms, may survive conventional pasteurization, none survive the increasingly common "ultra-pasteurization."

Also misleading were some of the statements in the box entitled "Myths, facts about pasteurization." For example: "Pasteurizing milk does not cause lactose intolerance and allergic reactions. Both raw milk and pasteurized milk can cause allergic reactions in people sensitive to milk proteins."

Of course pasteurizing milk doesn't cause lactose intolerance or allergic reactions. Rather, raw milk, which contains the lactase enzyme, is easier to digest for many, though not all, people who are otherwise lactose intolerant. Sensitivity to milk proteins -- casein -- is an entirely different issue than lactose intolerance, and should not be confused with it.

The assertion that "pasteurization does not reduce milk's nutritional value" is just that: an assertion, and a questionable one at that. Many nutritional experts far more knowledgeable than I have contested this assertion, among them Sally Fallon, President of the Weston A. Price Foundation, Ron Schmidt, ND, William Cambell Douglas Jr., MD, Thomas Cowan, MD, natural foods expert and writer Nina Planck, and nutritionist and author Joann S. Grohman. Do your own research, and draw your own conclusions.

Finally, regarding harmful bacteria. Milk simply cannot carry any pathogens that were not present in the cow, or else contaminated the milk after milking. That is why no pro-raw milk activist would ever suggest that pasteurization be abandoned, especially for large, commercial dairies and industrial milk-processing plants. All they are asking is that exceptions be made for small-scale farming operations to sell directly to a small clientele of local customers: face to face, neighbor to neighbor, where accountability is high.

So, can raw milk make you sick? Sure. It's possible. So can sushi. So can raw oysters. So can rare beef, or sunny-side-up eggs. So, for that matter, can raw spinach, or salad-bar lettuce. Pasteurized milk can, too. So what's the big deal about raw milk? If you really want to cover your assets, require a statement, such as appears on many restaurant menus regarding meat and seafood, to the effect of "Consuming raw milk or dairy products may increase your risk of food-borne illness," and then let people make their own choices. Sounds a lot like freedom, doesn't it?

Granting small farmers the opportunity to sell clean, fresh, unprocessed milk to local customers benefits the health of people, local/rural communities, and if the cows are grass-fed, as they should be for healthiest milk, the land itself, including the Chesapeake Bay, and will also help more farmers to stay on the land. It's an idea whose time has returned.

For More Information

Here are a couple of sites I'd recommend:

Campaign for Real Milk

Raw Milk Facts

"The Milk Papers" at Nina Planck's Website

Maryland Independent Consumers and Farmers Association

There are plenty of sites and lots of so-called "experts" telling how "bad" raw milk is for consumers. These are a selection of sites providing the alternative view.

Friday, March 23, 2007

A frog in troubling waters

It has been said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I agree with that assessment. A historical education allows one to detect patterns that are difficult or impossible to discern without that perspective. One of those is the effect of outside dangers and threats, real or imagined, on the development of government, and the transmutation of free societies into authoritarian ones.

This pattern can be detected as far back as ancient Sumeria, where the peaceful, pastoral rule of the archetypal shepherd-king, Dumuzi, gave way to the iron-fisted, brutal rule of the archetypal conqueror and law-giver, Gilgamesh. Similarly, outside threats led to the rise of the first kings in ancient Greece. Invasions or threats of invasions from the Celts, among others, brought ancient Rome from a Republic, to a Dictatorship, to an Empire, as a fearful people willingly agreed to their own subjugation by demagogues who claimed to be able to protect them.

In more recent years, trumped-up threats of attack by Communists and others led to the overthrow of the democratic Weimar Republic in Germany by Adolf Hitler and his Nazi henchmen. The pattern is clear: fear, whether justified or not, leads to autocracy and loss of freedom, freedom which is regained -- if at all -- only with great cost and difficulty.

In the United States, however, we have the example of Benjamin Franklin, widely credited with asserting that those who are willing to give up their freedom for a little security deserve neither freedom nor security. Other Founders expressed similar views. Is the United States in danger of becoming another Weimar Republic, rather than the free Republic of our Founders' vision? The signs are troubling.

A recent Justice Department audit recently revealed that the FBI systematically abused its powers to secretly obtain information on American citizens, ostensibly in the name of the war on terrorism. Eight federal prosecutors have been fired, apparently for resisting political pressure on their investigations. A new Homeland Security program called ADVISE will mine already collected data to gather still more information on U.S. citizens.

That's in addition to the sweeping provisions of the inaptly named USA Patriot Act, and various surveillance programs against American citizens, including electronic eavesdropping by the NSA. Some of these have supposedly been shut down or limited under Congressional oversight. But how limited? We don't really know. That information is secret. We're expected to trust the government, and accept their word on it.

Then there's the “Real ID” program, aimed at creating a de facto national identity card, beloved of all authoritarian states. "Papers, please!" used to be a cliche in old war movies. Now it may become a fact of our national life. Although not part of the current plan, modern technology would make it feasible to include a microchip allowing individual persons to be tracked by satellite.

Satellite tracking and GPS location are already part of the National Animal Identification System, which in the name of food security would effectively abolish private ownership of food animals, making all livestock part of a closely-monitored “national herd.” Recent E. coli scares have raised the spectre of similar federal control over vegetable production, too. And whoever controls the food, controls the populace.

More locally, there is the ever-growing number of red-light cameras, now reportedly to be joined by speed-enforcement cameras. Whatever happened to the old dictum that “only in a police state is the job of the police easy”?

For that matter, how often are books like Animal Farm, 1984, and Brave New World taught in schools, these days? I hope they are, but you don't hear too much about them. Most of what you hear is emphasis on math and science over history and the humanities, and standardized tests that emphasize recalling pieces of data over detailed analysis and thoughtful reflection. Hmmm, you don't suppose that's part of the pattern, too?

It is said that a frog who jumps into boiling water will immediately jump back out again, but a frog swimming in water which is gradually increasing in temperature will stay there until it is too late to avoid being cooked. I worry for our country, and the people of our country, lest we are becoming too much like that frog.

A recent Times editorial suggested that “a majority of Americans are opening their eyes and seeing how they have been duped.” I sincerely hope that's the case, and that we will, as that editorial suggested, “return to the day when America was truly the home of the free.” The alternative is deeply troubling.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Re: The Fall of Man and the Neolithic Revolution

My good friend "Roland," over at the Two Natures blog, posted a fascinating essay entitled, you guessed it, "The Fall of Man and the Neolithic Revolution." It is a very good piece, and I encourage you to read it before you read my own thoughts on the subject.

I was particularly interested to read this post, as I have been thinking along similar lines myself, for many years. Since at least my college days, in fact.

I actually had posited the (pre-)historical Fall to have occured earlier, when hominids first came down from the trees and began to walk upright, use tools, etc. -- when they first began to exhibit reflective thinking, in other words, rather than relying on instinct. But some non-human primates (chimps, for instance) and even some birds (crows, parrots) seem able to do some of those things. Does that mean that they, too, have the prospect of being "fallen"? That seems unlikely. And Roland makes a good case that it was when we stepped out of our proper "place" in nature, our natural role in the overall scheme of things, that we ran into trouble.

In any case, I have come to believe that creatures living in a state of nature -- that is, living in accordance with their natures, which is inherently also living in accordance with God's intention/will/plan -- are also living in a state of grace. And that included hominids/humans until, as Roland writes, we "left the garden," e.g., gave up living in "our place" in the natural scheme of things and began seriously manipulating Creation (and each other) for our own ends. That was clearly a "fall from grace," and "expulsion from the garden," as we began using/manipulating/destroying the garden (the earth/nature, or as some would have it, Gaia) to suit ourselves.

I think that is a major reason that earth/nature-based religions have never lost their appeal, although they have periodically been driven underground, and why (want to talk controversial!) I believe that Christianity, important as it is, does not and perhaps cannot serve as a complete answer to the spiritual longings of many (most?) humans. Although it contains within itself (mostly from the Old Testament, but there are also hints in certain of Paul's writings) the seeds of a viable theology of Creation, care for Creation, and dynamic, even ecstatic, union with the rest of (non-human) Creation, those seeds have never germinated in any meaningful way.

Christianity's importance, as I see it, is in addressing a) the problem of mortality, an issue in much (though not all) of the ancient world, and b) the problem of sin, also an issue for a number of the ancients, but especially for the Jewish people. And it accomplishes both through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Well and good, so far. But one of the reasons I think Christianity is losing ground in the contemporary world (aside from televangelists and others who present it as a caricature or parody of itself) is that neither of those issues -- for better or for worse -- is a major concern for most contemporary Americans, or Westerners in general, for that matter.

Many, if not most, of those in our generation, and those immediately preceding and following us, tend to accept some sort of continuation of life following the death of the physical body as a given. That may be "cultural capital" from Christianity, or it may be an intuited sense of "the way things are, or must be." In either case, immortality is not a major concern for most folks these days, and people who have been exposed to a plethora of cultures and religions since childhood also tend to look askance at the limited/limiting criteria for entering into that afterlife, according to Christianity.

Things which classical Christianity has viewed as sins -- especially sexual and other personal sins, such as individual greed ("whoever dies with the most toys, wins") -- are very clearly not viewed as sins by most people today (again, for better or for worse), and my own opinion is that Christians can talk about them till we're blue in the face, and we're not gonna convince anybody who's not already predisposed to be convinced.

[That doesn't mean they're irrelevant, by a long shot. Christianity is at its best when it is addressing the many ways we fall short, as individuals, of being the kind of person most of us, in our heart-of hearts, know we could and should be. As author Thomas Cahill cogently pointed out, in his book How the Irish Saved Civiliation, "Saint Paul trumps Plato." In other words, whereas Plato idealistically insisted that those who truly know the Good will seek to act accordingly, Paul more realistically lamented that "the good which I would I do not, but the evil which I would not, that I do" (Romans 7:19, KJV).]

On the other hand, people are looking at things like global warming, pollution of the air and water on a massive scale, widespread species extinction, wars and the oppression of various peoples, corporate greed, and governmental corruption, and seeing that Christianity has little to say -- or little that it's been willing or able to say -- on those kinds of pressing issues, and are becoming understandably disillusioned. Christianity seems to be standing by and acquiescing -- and in some quarters (particularly evangelical protestant/fundamentalist quarters, although I know there are exceptions here), contributing moral support -- to the degradation and destruction of Creation.

I will never forget how appalled I was, and still am, at seeing a poster in my former church picturing the classic view of the Earth from space, with the legend, "Without Christ, it's just a vicious circle." That is, quite frankly, horse hockey -- it's simply not true, on several levels -- but it does an excellent job of encapsulating what is wrong with Christianity, in the minds of many Americans and other Westerners. I think there is an acute and growing sense that, in the words of the old song (was it by Crosby, Stills, and Nash?), "we've got to get ourselves back to the Garden." Otherwise, the human experiment itself might be doomed, and we're almost certain to take a lot of innocent species with us.

So, yes, I agree with Roland that the neolithic revolution -- for all its fascination, benefits, and promise -- undoubtedly was "'the event' that, more than any other, set mankind on a new trajectory that has led to alienation from God, our fellow creatures, and our own nature." The trick is figuring out how to overcome that alienation without a complete cultural, technological and societal collapse that returns a surviving remnant of humans, willy-nilly, to a hunter-gatherer mode of living! Christianity may be able to help in this process, but so far I have not seen a great deal of evidence that it is either willing or able to do so.

Insofar as the "job" of a religion or spiritual path is to give meaning, purpose, and direction to life, and to both express a proper relationship between God, humans, and their physical environment and to encourage/enable people to live into that relationship -- a not-unreasonable set of criteria, I would think -- Christianity has not failed to accomplish this end for contemporary humanity, but it is by-and-large failing, and will fail ever more catastrophically as environmental problems worsen, unless or until it is able to overcome its historical (and rather Gnostic) tendency to define humans as being both over and against the rest of Creation.

We may not want or be able to return to a hunter-gatherer mode of being (although that undoubtedly is the ideal, for humans -- the way of life which is most in keeping with our true natures), but unless we find some way to get "back to the Garden," in the sense of finding ways to live sustainably on this Earth, in communion with Nature and not in competition with her, and unless our spiritual paths assist and promote this transformation, we are probably more-or-less doomed.

As they say on the internet, "imho -- ymmv." *


* "in my humble opinion," "your mileage may vary."

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And as I added to another friend of mine, to whom I forwarded both pieces, Roland's and my own:
As far as attaining/maintaining our fullest humanness, I tend to believe that our "original," hunter-gatherer way of life was (and, where still possible, remains) the ideal. Agriculture is next in line, at least agriculture which is human-scaled and sustainable. Cities are pretty much on the other end of the spectrum. It's possible to be human in a city, it may even be possible to be fully human in a city (although I'm not totally convinced of that), but it requires an immense amount of effort, more often than not. Is it possible to reconstruct cities in more human/humane modes? Probably... but again, it's difficult, because you're fighting the very nature of the urban entity itself (see Dunbar's Number, a.k.a., the "Monkeysphere").
As the ol' rocker once said, "what a long, strange trip it's been..."

Monday, March 19, 2007

Some thoughts on Christianity and Culture

I originally wrote the following post for an online forum I frequent; the thread was entitled "Faith, Fellowship, and this Forum." I launched that thread in response to comments from some of its members that the forum was becoming known as a conservative Christian forum, when that was not its intended purpose. The general tenor of the conversation that followed will be apparent from my post. I decided not to post this one on that thread, as I feared it would be too controversial, and throw gasoline on a fire which was beginning to die down... but because some of the points I raised are ones I think are important to raise, I wanted it to be posted somewhere. Well, gee! I have a blog. So here 'tis.

(Warning: this is a long post.)

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First off, I think that E___ and others have the right idea: we don't, or shouldn't, need to be walking on eggshells. I think we should all relax, practice -- as M___ said -- a bit of self-censorship (there were real advantages to the old "no talk about religion or politics in public" policy that used to be common in our society, but there are advantages to being more open about both, too), and most importantly, operate in a spirit of good-will, and assume that others are doing the same. We're all friends, here; there isn't any reason that I know to figure that anyone is acting out of anything but the best motives. Y'know?

That said, I have a couple of observations which I would like to share, also in the spirit of good will and friendliness. I hope that what I'm about to say won't offend anyone, but in case it does, please forget it, and forgive me.

First, I think that Christians in general, and conservative Christians in particular, do get the short end of the stick a lot of the time, in the public square, in the media, and in the news. The whole "Christmas - Holiday" thing is a particular sore point for me. I celebrate Christmas, and I get frustrated, not only at chirpy "Happy Holiday" greetings from cashiers (have you noticed that that's become the standard greeting, even for secular holidays like the Fourth of July? ... it's ridiculous, imho), but from trying to find a Christmas card that actually wishes somebody "Merry Christmas." Even ones featuring churches or other religious themes still often say "Season's Greetings" or "Happy Holidays" inside.

If someone wants to wish me a happy Diwali, or Eid, I'll gladly smile and say "thank you," if not "the same to you!" Since I have a fair number of Pagan friends, I do get wished "Blessed Solstice," or whatever the case may be, on a fairly regular basis. I appreciate and return the sentiments. I just don't find it that big a deal. So why is it so much of a problem to wish someone "Merry Christmas," without giving offense, or be wished it, without taking offense? Well, there may be some reasons (see below), but in general I think it's a great deal of ado about really very little.

And Christmas trees are Christmas trees, thank you very much. If you don't celebrate Christmas, and want to call it a "Hannukah Bush" or whatever, that's fine, but the custom of having an evergreen tree in your house toward the end of December was a German custom imported into England and from thence to the U.S. during the Victorian era to celebrate... wait for it... Christmas. It may have Pagan connotations, extending back into the Mists of History, and that's fine, too. But it's a Christmas tree, darn it, not a generic "holiday" one. Again, in my (ever so) humble opinion!

The Ten Commandments are a more complex issue. I can see both sides in that argument, and I'm not going to pass judgement here.

To return to the subject of Christmas, though, I wrote a column last Christmas (not this just past one, but 2005) on the subject of "be careful what you ask for, you may get it." When I was growing up in the 1960s, 70s, and even early 80s, Christmas was largely secularized (as famously lampooned and lamented in Charles Schultz's wonderful classic, "A Charlie Brown Christmas"), but it was celebrated as Christmas.

Over the last twenty years or so, Christians -- largely conservative, evangelical Christians -- have run a massive campaign to "put Christ back in Christmas." I suspect that it is precisely to their success in doing so -- re-linking Christmas with Christ, in the popular imagination -- that we owe the "Happy Holiday-ization" of what was formerly the Christmas season. "Okay, they want Christ back in Christmas? Fair enough, we'll just replace Christmas with something more generic and secular."

That's an over-simplification, of course; there were and are undoubtedly other forces at work. But it does point to the fact that popular opinion, particularly but not exclusively the so-called "intellectual elite" that are represented in/by the governing and "talking classes," are mistrustful of a too-open or too-enthusiastic display of public religiosity.

I can empathize with this, frankly. For one thing, while we are indeed guaranteed "freedom of religion, not freedom from religion," as the saying goes, even within Christianity there is so much variation in doctrine and practice that it's hard to say what a "Christian nation" would look like, even if it were attainable. As an Anglican Christian, I have to say that I would be decidedly uncomfortable with, say, a Baptist theocracy (no offense to any Baptists on-board), simply because some elements of their doctrine and practice are quite different from some of mine.

Thus the wisdom of our American Founders in refusing to establish a religion, still less a denomination, for this country. I do not happen to believe there needs to be a "wall of separation between Church and State" (a private opinion of one of the Founders which does not appear in any public document of the Founding), but I do think there needs to be at least a semi-permeable membrane, to control and limit what passes from one to the other.

The intentions of our Founders aside, there are plenty of reasons why someone might mistrust or even dislike Christianity. One that I have wrestled with, at various times in my life, is the sometimes excessive zeal with which some Christians attempt to fulfill the Great Commission. Pushy anyone -- salesman or evangelist -- turns me off, personally. And if you link that to the frequent implication (if not flat-out statement) that if you are not "saved," by the would-be evangelist's definition (often including membership in his or her particular denomination or sect), you are thereby damned, you have a recipe for breeding a dislike not only of that proselytizer and his/her church, but Christianity as a whole. Guilt by association, as it were.

Then there is the question of what I like to call an honest agnosticism, which many of us have to a greater or lesser degree. I am no atheist, by any stretch of the imagination, but I do tend to agree with the words of one atheistic author, who recently wrote something to the effect that "religion is the only sphere of human discourse in which it's considered noble to be certain about things no human being could possibly be certain about." Insistence on belief -- particularly intellectual assent in a literalist way, rather than a more metaphorical or metaphysical understanding -- in things about which no human being could possibly be certain is a good way to turn off many folks with an intellectual frame of mind.

There is also another issue which has probably become more of an issue since 9/11, and that is the stated desire by some Christian conservatives to "restore" or "return" America to its identify as a Christian nation. That's the sort of thing that sounds good when you're saying it within your own faith community, or even when you look at it in historical terms... but whether it's a good idea, in practice, now, is an entirely different kettle of fish.

We are a vastly more heterogenous -- diverse -- people, religiously, culturally, and ethnically, now in 2007 than we were in 1907, and moreso then than in 1807. And the question I raised above returns: to what sort of Christianity are we to "return"? Anglican? Presbyterian? Methodist? Baptist? And which branch of those denominations, at that? Or maybe non-denominational? That would be an a-historical novelty, not a return.

So even if all were agreed that it was a good idea (as, in fact, all are not), there are a plethora of practical and theological difficulties in attaining that goal. I am not, personally, a blind supporter of multi-culturalism as an automatic and absolute good, but I am also cognizant of the fact that, even if we wanted to, a return to a (mostly) WASP culture and religion in the US is out of the question, practically speaking.

And even the idea of America as a "Christian nation" has resonances that seem sinister, for many people, in the age of radical Islamofascism. We are fighting the likes of the Taliban and al-Qaeda; we do not, by and large, want to become them, or a Christian mirror-image of them. But talk of returning to being a Christian nation, with traditional Christian morality, Christian values and ethics, and so on -- particularly when couched in terms like "God-fearing" or "godly living" -- sets many folks' teeth on edge. Translated into Arabic, those kinds of terms and expressions sound a lot like what comes out of Islamist websites.

I am not saying that conservative Christians are Taliban-like, or that a "Christian America" would look like Afghanistan, only without the burkhas. But the danger is there, and more importantly, the perception is there. I think if more conservative Christians could step back and look at how things like praying for mass conversions, or talking about restoring America to Christianity, look to people outside their own faith community, they would see that it can appear quite threatening, even if that is not their intention.

I guess in wrapping up I mean to say that while I believe it is an unfortunate truth, and not just a perception, that Christians (especially of the conservative variety) are often unfairly put upon, censored, etc., this situation does not arise in a vacuum, or simply out of a desire to be mean. I hate to say it, but sometimes conservative Christians' actions and attitudes, words and deeds, can provide ammunition to their foes... or even not necessarily foes, just people who have a broader view when it comes to issues of spirituality, morality, etc., than do those conservative Christians themselves.

And in saying all this, I am certainly not intending to be mean, or judgemental, or anything of the sort, myself! Just trying to provide some context for a situation which often seems to leave folks wondering "why?"

I love all my friends on this board, whatever their spiritual path, and I (along with my mother, while she was alive) have been the grateful recipient of prayers and positive thoughts from folks of a wide variety of faith traditions. I am deeply grateful for the prayers of my Christian friends who have been praying for Ma and me, but I am not less grateful for the prayers, thoughts, energy, etc., of my friends of other faiths. Many threads go into making a strong-but-beautiful tapestry.

And I suppose that, finally, is my message and my hope in writing this: that we will all come to understand each other better, and appreciate each other more. I think we on this board are further along that path than many folks, and I hope we can continue the journey together, all of us. If I have a hope and a dream and a wish for us here, it would be that we could not only talk and share together and with each other openly but non-judgementally, but that we could also pray with and for each other in ways that maintain the integrity of our own faith traditions, but also respect those of others.

In that way we could be even more what we are already: a microcosm and an example of the way the world could, and ought, to be.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Unintended consequences haunt U.S. actions

Okay, I admit it. I was wrong.

In the days leading up to the Iraq invasion, I questioned the so-called "Bush Doctrine" of pre-emptive war, on the grounds that it would lead dozens of other countries around the world to preemptively invade their neighbors on a variety of flimsy pretexts. After all, if the great United States thinks it's morally justified to invade because it thinks someone might attack it, why shouldn't others?

This, however, did not happen. Unfortunately, however, what did happen, which I utterly failed to predict, is even worse. Countries around the world started making decisions, and conducting actions, out of fear that we might attack them preemptively.

Iran has been the loudest and most belligerent of those, but North Korea's efforts have been the most successful (read: frightening). Kim Jong Il's autocratic but impoverished family fiefdom has managed to "go nuclear," at least in a minor but worrying way. It has also done pretty well about developing long-range missiles that could, if they get the bugs ironed out, carry a North Korean nuclear warhead all the way to the West Coast of the United States.

Kim is a nut-case, granted. But his histrionic avowals that his nuclear program is only defensive in nature, to avert a U.S. attack, don't ring as hollow as they should, taken in the context of Iraq. Ditto Iran, and its pursuit of a "peaceful" nuclear program. Ditto Syria. Ditto, probably, half-a-dozen other countries that may be surreptitiously trying to create or acquire nukes: the fact that we attacked Iraq, which didn't have nuclear weapons, and did not attack North Korea, which does, is not lost on despotic regimes worldwide.

Most concerning of all has been the reaction of Russia. A few weeks ago, the general commanding Russia's strategic missile forces warned that Poland and the Czech Republic could be targeted by Russian missiles if they agreed to host U.S. anti-missile defenses, according to an AP report. This, despite U.S. insistence that the defenses are aimed at a missile attack from the Mideast, not Russia -- a claim bolstered by the small size of the defense, which Russia could overcome with ease.

It might be tempting to dismiss these threats as the blusterings of a bellicose, vodka-swilling bullyboy (take a look at a picture of General Solovtsov, and you'll see what I mean), were it not for the words of his suave, sophisticated, and coldly dangerous boss not long before.

Vladimir Putin is a shining example of the fact that you can take the man out of the KGB, but you can't take the KBG out of the man. He has the background of a Soviet-era secret police boss, which he was, and the instincts of a Russian tsar, which he appears to be headed toward becoming.

On February 10th, again according to AP reports, Putin accused the U.S. of "almost uncontained hyper use of force in international relations," and stated that "one state, the United States, has overstepped its national borders in every way," and that this was forcing countries opposed to the U.S. to build up their nuclear arsenals, fomenting a new arms race.

Now, one can observe that the Kremlin complaining of American use of force in international relations and overstepping our national borders is a decided case of the pot calling the kettle black. But that does not mean that Putin is entirely wrong, particularly when he notes that "unilateral, illegitimate actions have not solved a single problem, they have become a hotbed of further conflicts."

One can quibble over the use of the word "illegitimate." But it is plain that our post-9/11 tendency to go it alone, or with a shaky coalition of the not-entirely-willing, to believe that preemption is an appropriate response to potential threats, to attempt to solve political and social problems with military force, and to believe that 9/11 gave America the moral right to do basically whatever we felt like in the world, has not only failed to achieve the desired ends, but has destabilized the balance of power both in the Middle East, and in the world as a whole.

We can only hope that the next president, of whichever party, proves more willing to engage in multi-lateral negotiations to resolve problems and threats diplomatically, preserving the option to use force as a last resort, not a first choice -- and that the world situation does not worsen too much in the interim.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Tribute to my Mother

A Tribute to my Mother

Jean Elizabeth (Reamer) Harbold ~ “Betty,” “Ma”

July 9, 1927 – February 27, 2007

By Tom Harbold

I can do all things in him who strengthens me.

Phillipians 4:13

At approximately 8:15 on the evening of Tuesday, February 27th, 2007, our kind, gentle, loving, feisty, spirited, and devoted mother passed out of this world and into, we believe, closer communion with a loving God, and reunion with our late father, her parents, and many other loved ones who have gone before. Our sadness is great, but so is our relief and joy that she has been released from the suffering that marked the last portion of her life on this earth.

Much could be said about the strength and determination with which she fought for life, or about the peace and holiness of her final passing. But I would like to direct my gaze further back, leapfrogging over the times of pain and suffering to reflect on who Ma was and how much she influenced my life, and the lives of all her family.

You see, family came first in my mom's life. Having lived through the deprivations and fears of the Great Depression and World War Two, she received an excellent liberal arts education at (then) Western Maryland College, graduating in 1949. Shortly thereafter she married my father, a WW II vet whose family attended the Methodist church where her father was pastor. Ma was always proud to be a Methodist minister's daughter, and she brought up her three sons in the Christian faith she professed.

In the early years of her marriage to my father, Ma was a schoolteacher, but it did not take long for her to realize that her true vocation was to the wellbeing of her family. Although it required a lot of scrimping and saving, especially in the early years, she became a full-time wife, mother, and homemaker, and excelled at all three roles.

I think there is probably no question that all three of us boys took Ma somewhat for granted, growing up. She was simply always present, always directly involved in our lives. She patched up our cuts and bruises. She sent us off to school with a good breakfast under our belts and home-packed lunchboxes in our hands. She was there when we came home from school as well, doubtless keeping us out of at least some of the trouble we might otherwise have gotten in.

She made sure we did our homework, but she also gave us plenty of time to simply be boys -- building models, playing with stuffed animals and other toys, or heading to the woods to explore and build "forts." I will never forget playing out in the woods, a good distance from home, only to hear, about dinnertime, a resounding "TOMMMM!" echoing through the forest, calling me home to dinner. And when I arrived, it was to the mouth-watering smells and (usually, with a handful of memorable exceptions) delicious tastes of a home-cooked dinner.

Nor will I ever forget all the times she stood by my bedside, singing songs and reading stories to me, or sharing poems from "the big blue poetry book." I was plagued by migraine headaches as a child, and I can only imagine the back-strain as she stood patiently at my bed, rubbing my head to soothe my pain. I was grateful to be able to perform a similar function for her, in her last days.

Although sewing wasn't her favorite domestic task, my mom was an excellent seamstress, rather a martinet when it came to keeping the house spic-and-span, and taught us to fold clothes with expertise and make our beds with "hospital corners." And oh, the cakes and pies, cookies and brownies and "marble squares" she baked! Holidays were celebrated with delectable foods and special decorations, and she loved what she called "entertaining" – having friends over for dinner and an evening of talking and visiting.

She was very active in her church: when I was growing up, Mt. Zion (United) Methodist, in High¬land, Maryland. She and Pa both sang in the choir at times, and she was often an officer in the Women's Society, later United Methodist Women. She was also active in the now-defunct Homemakers Club.

Ma was not perfect, of course; no human is. But she was a living embodiment of motherly love, and an amazing example of selfless, sacrificial, and immensely loving devotion to her family, and to all the tasks and duties that go into making a house a home. Thank you, Ma. I will try my best to live up to the example you set. And there will be a meeting again.


My Mother’s Piano

By Tom Harbold

This essay appeared as a column in the Carroll County Times on Tuesday, May 9th, 2006.

Just to the left of the front entrance of the house where I live with my mother is the formal living room: what I call the "parlor," asserting that the true "living room" is the family room, since that's where we do most of our living. Call it living room or parlor, though, the front room's centerpiece is clearly our upright piano. The piano. My mother's piano.

Both of my parents were excellent amateur musicians in their younger days. My father was good enough that, after being wounded in action in World War Two and making his way through field hospitals and the "repple depple" (replacement depot), he was tapped for the regimental band, in which he played both piano and trumpet during the post-war occupation of Germany.

My mother grew up in a Methodist parsonage, where she learned to play both the piano and organ at church services, often assisting or substituting for the regular organist. Both parents sung in the choirs of the various churches they attended, and my father directed the choir at one of them. He gave the piano to my mother shortly after they were married – at the time, a major investment, and a sign of the love which shone so deeply through their marriage until his death in 1999, and continues to shine in her frequent reminiscences of him.

I was a relatively late addition to the family, and by my arrival, the heyday of my parents' musical ventures had largely passed. Largely, but not entirely. My father, as might be expected, could play a rare tune when the inspiration hit him, but it was my mother's more frequent playing – usually of traditional hymns, or classic Christmas carols in season -- that had the greatest effect. There are many reasons, for instance, why both spirituality and the environment are deeply important in my life, but surely listening to my mother playing and singing "How Great Thou Art," her loving voice blending with the movements of her strong but gentle hands on the keys, was an important contributing factor.

I find it interesting and a little curious that I have been noticing my mother's piano, and the void left by its silence, more and more often now that she is absent from the house. Having injured herself in a fall a few weeks before Easter, she has been either in the hospital or convalescing and undergoing physical therapy ever since. As her live-in caretaker, as well as loving son, I miss her presence, of course. But it's been poignant to realize how much I miss her piano-playing, too.

To miss it so much just now is perhaps not entirely rational – due to painful arthritis, her playing has been ever less frequent in recent years -- but rationality counts for little where matters of emotion are involved. And there is something about music, or its lack, which touches our emotions deeply. In a sense, the un-played piano has come to stand for the lack of my mother's physical presence, as well as my regret for the advancing years which have robbed her hands of so much of their former agility, over the past decade or so.

It is never easy, seeing one's parents age. Especially not if you love them. But barring catastrophe, it is inevitable, and as my maternal grandfather aptly put it, "getting older is no fun, but it sure beats the alternative." My mother is doing well in her physical therapy, and if her progress continues, should be home in a week or two. For how much longer, though? That is the question. God willing, she'll be around to love and be loved by her family for a good many more years. But not, necessarily, in this house.

And perhaps that is why my throat gets suddenly and unexpectedly tight, and my eyes a little misty, as I run my hand along the smooth, lightly dust-covered cherry wood of my mother's piano. It's not just for the missing music that I mourn. It's for the end of an era which seems, whatever happens, to be drawing slowly toward its close.