The Associated Press reports that, "The Vatican newspaper and radio station are criticizing James Cameron's 3-D blockbuster for flirting with the idea that worship of nature can replace religion — a notion the pope has warned against."
http://movies.yahoo.com/news/movies.ap.org/vatican-says-avatar-no-masterpiece-ap#
This is certainly not a new battle. In Roman times the Catholic church co-opted pagan holidays for Christian celebrations. Perhaps the Vatican has forgotten the history of half the Christian calendar dates back to pagan religious holidays. The Vatican has vilified worshipping nature as heresy from the beginning. While this Pope defends that he is more environmental, he is quick to worry about the worship of the natural world. I hate to tell the Pope, but worship of nature doesn't replace religion - it is religion.
Indeed, this cements my desire to see Avatar this Friday evening. If the Pope is this worked up about it, then by all means it must be worth the price of a ticket. Also the Vatican seems to have failed to notice the distinct difference between worshipping a tree and recognizing the divine spark within it and all things. When I recognize the divine in nature it is an understanding of the complex inter-relationship of all things. I know many Christians that find God in nature understanding that God is not separate from creation or even humanity. Perhaps the Pope is fan of the theologian Barth that finds nature to be as fallen as humankind.
As a Unitarian Universalist I find this kind of thinking destructive. If we do not see our relationship with nature as spiritual and important, we will continue the destructive course of consumption and pollution modern society has embraced. Our fate is intertwined with nature, and our transcendentalist Unitarian forefathers Emerson and Thoreau certainly recognized it.
Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand. ~Henry David Thoreau, journal, 5 January 1856
The cathedral of the world in all of its leaves, shadow, and light outshines any cathedral of stone and glass. I am proud to be a part of a religious tradition that embraces many sources of wisdom, including the spirit of a tree...including the wisdom of the natural world.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Books, Books, Books...
How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book. ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Books mark the interests in my life like some colorful timeline. I have my earlier periods of favoring Richard Brautigan and then my attention moved to LE Modessitt. Some are worn and some are too precious to mar the cover. There are the books from my various classes. Then the ones that remind me of friends and loves. I love to browse my children's shelves and see my childhood books and those given to the boys thoughtfully by friends, aunts, and uncles.
Of course, ministry has also fed this addiction. Yes, I admit that I am indeed a book addict. I'll take a little Process Theology with some Carol Christ, some Catherine Keller. I need a little Tillich or some Telesco. I'd like some Thich Nhat Han or a book on mysticism. Yet, why stop there. Give me historical China. Give me Science Fiction. Give me a book of verse. Give me. Give me. My insatiable book needs are overflowing my shelves, my dresser, my desk, and I am in the position where books must prioritized.
Tell me, how do you prioritize a book? Is it the number of times you've read it? I have to ask whether it might inspire a sermon or I might need it for something. There are some books that are duds, and I can often find another loving home for it. Yet somehow, like the movie Inkheart, I feel books have a magic life of their own. Crack one open and it takes you away. It has no strings or requirements, except patience for plot and a love of words.
Cutting down books is like culling saved letters. It is letting go of a chapter in my life or a moment in time. The best way I've found to reduce my collection to where I don't have to sleep on them or use them as a night stand is to spread them to other book lovers. Other book lovers will then love them and share them with someone new. Like some perfect dessert, you can only have so much sugar until you need to share it with your friends.
So, my New Years weekend will be spent lovingly looking through books. Some will find new homes, and others will never quite make it past the "must keep" pile. Until, I look again at my bookshelves and stacks of books and start over again. The delightful spiritual process of cleaning out and making room. The process of remembering what is important to share, and what is important to hold close.
Let books be your dining table, And you shall be full of delights, Let them be your mattress, And you shall sleep restful nights.~Author Unknown
Books mark the interests in my life like some colorful timeline. I have my earlier periods of favoring Richard Brautigan and then my attention moved to LE Modessitt. Some are worn and some are too precious to mar the cover. There are the books from my various classes. Then the ones that remind me of friends and loves. I love to browse my children's shelves and see my childhood books and those given to the boys thoughtfully by friends, aunts, and uncles.
Of course, ministry has also fed this addiction. Yes, I admit that I am indeed a book addict. I'll take a little Process Theology with some Carol Christ, some Catherine Keller. I need a little Tillich or some Telesco. I'd like some Thich Nhat Han or a book on mysticism. Yet, why stop there. Give me historical China. Give me Science Fiction. Give me a book of verse. Give me. Give me. My insatiable book needs are overflowing my shelves, my dresser, my desk, and I am in the position where books must prioritized.
Tell me, how do you prioritize a book? Is it the number of times you've read it? I have to ask whether it might inspire a sermon or I might need it for something. There are some books that are duds, and I can often find another loving home for it. Yet somehow, like the movie Inkheart, I feel books have a magic life of their own. Crack one open and it takes you away. It has no strings or requirements, except patience for plot and a love of words.
Cutting down books is like culling saved letters. It is letting go of a chapter in my life or a moment in time. The best way I've found to reduce my collection to where I don't have to sleep on them or use them as a night stand is to spread them to other book lovers. Other book lovers will then love them and share them with someone new. Like some perfect dessert, you can only have so much sugar until you need to share it with your friends.
So, my New Years weekend will be spent lovingly looking through books. Some will find new homes, and others will never quite make it past the "must keep" pile. Until, I look again at my bookshelves and stacks of books and start over again. The delightful spiritual process of cleaning out and making room. The process of remembering what is important to share, and what is important to hold close.
Let books be your dining table, And you shall be full of delights, Let them be your mattress, And you shall sleep restful nights.~Author Unknown
Monday, December 14, 2009
What Are We Celebrating?
Lists are made, the food is baked, gifts are wrapped and yet there's still more to do? Why is it that during this time of celebrating so many holidays that hail the return of light that we are focusing more on gift returns instead? We string lights, we light candles, and sometimes even the outside of our homes...but how much light are we getting? Being intentional about this time of year is hard. We have messages from our childhood traditions, the media, and our own expectations about what it takes to do it right. Rethinking how we celebrate the winter holidays while not simple, can be quite radical.
This isn't something inside a sappy Halmark card. Searching for happiness and light has been the focus of age old quests and legends. What was the search for the Holy Grail all about? What about some wise men searching for a star in the night? I remember being fascinated by the story of the Wise Men that were willing to take off for strange lands - hoping to find something by the light of a star. What star are we following? What is it that we are searching for in this season?
“Jesus is the reason for the season” doesn't quite do it. Meg Cox wrote an article in U.U. World about this same struggle. Figuring out how to celebrate holidays is not always easy. She said “Many Unitarian Universalist congregations have beloved holiday traditions. But at home many of us still struggle to find the right mix of family traditions for this time of year. Many UUs respect Christian traditions that celebrate the birth of Jesus but are personally uncomfortable with the idea that he was the Christ. Yet veering away from religious rituals throws them smack into the materialistic, secular approach to Christmas, and they don’t want to deify Santa Claus either.” Some of us have grown up with Jewish traditions or some mixture of secular and Christian traditions. Coming up with meaningful ritual and practice is one way to search for the light in this time of shorter days and longer nights.
Meg Cox says that there are ways to celebrate the holidays without watering down everything into something unrecognizable and unprofound. She writes “Let’s start by going back to basics: No matter how historically suspect the date may be, Christmas is fundamentally the celebration of the birth of Jesus. In UU classrooms and homes, Jesus is lauded as a wise man whose devotion to peace and justice are worthy of praise and emulation. All the Unitarian Universalists I know take the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. very seriously as a holiday: Should we celebrate the birthday of Jesus with any less intensity?” She suggests that by embracing the stories and messages of Jesus, there is something to be found or reclaimed in this holiday.
The wise men in the story of the birth of Jesus are not that different from our own quests to find what is holy. We look for signs and we search in earnest for that which can bring us beyond despair and into hope. Yet we need not beat paths through deserts or forests to find this holy grail of happiness. Sometimes we must simply turn off the commercials, put away the electronics, and tune in. There are countless poems about the stillness of winter. It is in that point of stillness that wisdoms speaks. Yet, it is rare indeed that we have or make time for it. And yet, - in what many hail as a holy time – we are bulldozed by a loud, bright, and frenzied sensory overload. I was reminded of this when attended an Unplugging the Christmas Machine workshop last year, and that is what it seems to take sometimes. I have felt like I needed to pull the plug on what society has defined as Christmas, and explore my values around materialism, ritual, and what it is exactly that I am celebrating?
While we celebrate the traditional Christmas festivities with my extended family, we have greatly reduced the material push of this time. We've tried to shift to handmade or baked goods, or more giving lasting gifts like books. At home, our family celebrates the Winter Solstice. In my house, we light a fire and try to stay up all night on the solstice to greet the dawn. We drink hot cider or cocoa, tell stories, and play games We celebrate the light returning, and talk about what that means in our lives. And yes my kids still get excited about Santa Claus, but we primarily focus that he represents the spirit of giving. The boys are excited about presents, but they also get excited about evergreens and berries...and the stories about the return of the light. This is a magical time of year - with intention and sometimes unplugging the Christmas machine.
This isn't something inside a sappy Halmark card. Searching for happiness and light has been the focus of age old quests and legends. What was the search for the Holy Grail all about? What about some wise men searching for a star in the night? I remember being fascinated by the story of the Wise Men that were willing to take off for strange lands - hoping to find something by the light of a star. What star are we following? What is it that we are searching for in this season?
“Jesus is the reason for the season” doesn't quite do it. Meg Cox wrote an article in U.U. World about this same struggle. Figuring out how to celebrate holidays is not always easy. She said “Many Unitarian Universalist congregations have beloved holiday traditions. But at home many of us still struggle to find the right mix of family traditions for this time of year. Many UUs respect Christian traditions that celebrate the birth of Jesus but are personally uncomfortable with the idea that he was the Christ. Yet veering away from religious rituals throws them smack into the materialistic, secular approach to Christmas, and they don’t want to deify Santa Claus either.” Some of us have grown up with Jewish traditions or some mixture of secular and Christian traditions. Coming up with meaningful ritual and practice is one way to search for the light in this time of shorter days and longer nights.
Meg Cox says that there are ways to celebrate the holidays without watering down everything into something unrecognizable and unprofound. She writes “Let’s start by going back to basics: No matter how historically suspect the date may be, Christmas is fundamentally the celebration of the birth of Jesus. In UU classrooms and homes, Jesus is lauded as a wise man whose devotion to peace and justice are worthy of praise and emulation. All the Unitarian Universalists I know take the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. very seriously as a holiday: Should we celebrate the birthday of Jesus with any less intensity?” She suggests that by embracing the stories and messages of Jesus, there is something to be found or reclaimed in this holiday.
The wise men in the story of the birth of Jesus are not that different from our own quests to find what is holy. We look for signs and we search in earnest for that which can bring us beyond despair and into hope. Yet we need not beat paths through deserts or forests to find this holy grail of happiness. Sometimes we must simply turn off the commercials, put away the electronics, and tune in. There are countless poems about the stillness of winter. It is in that point of stillness that wisdoms speaks. Yet, it is rare indeed that we have or make time for it. And yet, - in what many hail as a holy time – we are bulldozed by a loud, bright, and frenzied sensory overload. I was reminded of this when attended an Unplugging the Christmas Machine workshop last year, and that is what it seems to take sometimes. I have felt like I needed to pull the plug on what society has defined as Christmas, and explore my values around materialism, ritual, and what it is exactly that I am celebrating?
While we celebrate the traditional Christmas festivities with my extended family, we have greatly reduced the material push of this time. We've tried to shift to handmade or baked goods, or more giving lasting gifts like books. At home, our family celebrates the Winter Solstice. In my house, we light a fire and try to stay up all night on the solstice to greet the dawn. We drink hot cider or cocoa, tell stories, and play games We celebrate the light returning, and talk about what that means in our lives. And yes my kids still get excited about Santa Claus, but we primarily focus that he represents the spirit of giving. The boys are excited about presents, but they also get excited about evergreens and berries...and the stories about the return of the light. This is a magical time of year - with intention and sometimes unplugging the Christmas machine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)