My Native Tongue

Anyone who has ever traveled to a foreign country where theirs is not the prevalent language, has probably noticed that they can hear their mother tongue spoken even across a crowded and noisy room. My ears are keener still, for I can hear my native tongue spoken from 4 blocks away! My native tongue is Bullshit. When, in the same foreign country, a native of that land tries to converse with you in your own language, you appreciate the effort, regardless of how clumsy their attempt may be. After a while, however, even the most polite traveler, may note that prolonged exposure to the butchering of their mother tongue tends to grate on one's ear. In this, I am no different. While I appreciate those of you who try to speak proper Bullshit to me, after successive clumsy attempts, it does offend my ear. For this reason, I shall try to confine my musings to English, but, should I occasionally lapse into my Native Tongue, please, bear with me and do not feel obliged to join me on a similar linguistic tangent. If this note offends you, you should probably leave now, before my thoughts on Religion and Politics cause you serious distress.

Tears and Rage

When I was a child I was taught of America. It was a Fabled Land where the milk and honey of Freedom ran in the streets, conceived by an idealistic people who, having felt themselves oppressed for so long, rose up and threw out their oppressors. It was born of a miracle of courage and determination that led landed gentry and peasant farmers, merchants and tradesmen, Protestants and Catholics to see beyond their personal differences, band together, and rise up as one, declaring to the world, "We will bear the yoke of tyranny no more!" And I believed. From the spacious skies to the amber waves of grain, I believed. I was fortunate enough to be able to travel this land from sea to shining sea, and I believed. Then I saw poverty and hunger. I saw ignorance and bigotry. I saw hatred. I asked how these could exist in such a glorious and just land, and, much like the boy who could not see the Emperor's New Clothes, I was shushed. So I did as I was told, and I was quiet. I did as I has been taught, and I believed. I still do. The words that will follow in this place do not evince any change in that belief. Rather, it is as a result of that belief that I feel compelled to write them now. If you have known something precious when it was bright and new, and then you see it tarnished and worn, even cast down in the mud and trampled upon, do you not weep to see its abuse and do everything in your power to lift it up and repair it as best you can? If you know that abuse to be deliberate, do you not feel rage? I see this Fabled Land, once a shining beacon in the night to the oppressed throughout the world, now tarnished and soiled. Her noble flag, woven of hope in the face of despair, and defended with the blood of her Heroes, that blessed Star Spangled Banner, I see now tattered and worn. I weep to see these abuses, and I would repair them. I see the sacred parchments of "We the People" and the precious ideals they espouse cast down in the mud and wantonly trampled. I see the very precepts upon which this nation was founded twisted and betrayed for personal gain, and I rage! This does not mean that my belief has been lessened. My Faith in this nation and that for which it once stood is stronger than ever. It is those things for which it has been made to stand that give me pause. It is the flagrant usurpation of individual freedoms, once held so dear, that move me to tears. It is the brazen betrayal of the public trust for political and financial gain which leads me to rage! I am not moved to such strong emotions by any weakening of my belief, but rather by its strength. I still believe. But I also still see, and, unlike that child who questioned so long ago, I will no longer be shushed. The Emperor has NO new clothes! In fact, he's stealing yours! These are my tears. This is my rage. Where, in the name of all that is right, and just, and decent, are yours?

Sunday, December 10, 2006

The Furor of Force Fed Faith

Last year, at age 44, I returned to my old high school. I had heard that a former Teacher of mine was retiring soon, and I had a message I wished to deliver in person. (The specifics are not that relevant, but are noted in greater detail in my Author’s Note following the Poetry piece “The Joys I’ve Yet to Live”) She met with me in her classroom at the end of the day. Also in attendance was a young man, probably in his early twenties, who was introduced to me as her teaching assistant. After about a thirty minute discussion, during which I admit I got “a bit choked up”, I thanked her for caring so much all those years ago. Her eyes, too, were a bit teared up as I finished. Wonder Boy, however, looked at me and said, “May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly,” I replied, hoping that he would take the entire incident to heart as an example of the far reaching impact he, himself, could one day have on his own students.

Not a chance! Instead, he said, “Have you asked Jesus Christ into your life?”

I was floored. I was shocked. I was PISSED! I reined it all in, however, calmly thanked him for his concern, and quite politely explained that I had NOT come to discuss his Faith. I made my farewells, and left with my resentment barely under control. When did it become appropriate to insert Jesus into every single conversation, whatever the topic, whatever the setting? Did I not get the memo?

On the business front, as a Realtor, I now receive E-mails from supposed business professionals, hard copies of which, by Law, will be kept in the files pertaining to a real estate transaction for years. Some of these messages may only be a sentence of two in length, but at the bottom of each page is a Bible quote, complete with notations of chapter and verse! This is not Sunday school, this is the business world, and with all due respect, when last I heard, The Christ was NOT a Licensed Real Estate Agent.

I now occasionally run into an old school friend, quite the hell raiser in his day, who has since been “born again”. Now, I can understand him sharing this with me that first time we reconnected after twenty years, but every single time I see him now, about four times a year, he absolutely CANNOT go five minutes in any conversation without mentioning “The Lord”. Is there no point after which it’s just understood by all whose team you’re one, and we can then just dispense with the constant references?

Our roadways have become choked with ads for “Salvation”. The “Jesus Fish” appears on the back of more vehicles in the United States than the Chevrolet logo. Those cars which don’t remind you that “Jesus Saves” will instead claim him as their actual co-pilot! Perhaps if your co-pilot didn’t hail from a desert in the Iron Age, devoid of ANY CARS or even PAVED ROADS, you wouldn’t be doing thirty miles-per-hour in the left lane of a forty-five zone! My absolute favorite is the bumper sticker which read, “I Brake for the Lord”! I had to wonder if these visions occurred only at slow speeds, or could they result in a full “lock-up” at sixty?

These are but minor symptoms of a trend that has grown to epidemic proportions. By that I do not refer to the resurgence of the Christian Faith in this country, but rather the constant force-feeding thereof. Even more disturbing to me is the growing trend to denigrate and revile those of other Faiths. During debates surrounding the recent elections, I have, on several occasions heard the term “GODLESS LIBERALS”! This sends me completely over the edge and into a near frothy-mouthed frenzy of righteous indignation. That’s right. I said “righteous”. Let me explain it this way.

Among my many, albeit dubious talents, I am a gourmet cook. I can prepare for you one of the finest meals you've ever tasted. BUT.....the minute I try to jam it down your throat with a broom handle YOU WILL GAG ON IT! The same is true with religion. I am glad someone’s Faith sustains them. I am pleased to hear that in times of pain, fear, grief, or ill health that their Faith lends them solace and strength. That is what it's for. I am also glad that their Faith nourishes them. That is also what it's for.

I can even understand that they find it so nourishing and comforting they wish to share it with others. They find a table "prepared before them in the presence of their enemies", they see that "their cup runneth over", and they are moved to invite others to join in their comfort and Spiritual largess. This is just good manners, as well as a proper act of kindness. I will even assume that their initial efforts to spread their Faith are based on such positive motivations. BUT, when others decline such invitations, it is WRONG to chastise them for it. Perhaps they are already full, having eaten elsewhere. Perhaps they don't like new things, preferring the food they were raised with. Maybe they’re just NOT HUNGRY. It makes no difference. The would-be “sharers” have NO RIGHT to shove it down their throats with a broom handle.

"Join us, please." "Thank you, no." "But, it's quite good." "I'm sure it is, but, no thank you." THAT should be the end of the conversation. "GODLESS" is uncalled for. To anyone encountering this sort of hostility, I would suggest asking the following question: “Do you assume that if people decline a dinner invitation to your home that their entire lives are FOODLESS?” You may then follow up with the obvious: “Yours is NOT the ONLY food, nor is yours the ONLY Faith.” I tend to close after that with a peacefully delivered, “Blessed Be!” but then, that’s just me. ( I will speak to the tenets of my own Faith later.)

I have also, upon rare occasion, when corresponding with a large group of people, used the line: “May whatever God you embrace, embrace you in turn.” I choose such a benediction in the hope that it will convey my sincere wishes that each member of the group to which I am speaking find peace within themselves and their Faith, whatever that Faith may be. I wish them Contentment of Soul. I do not see how this could possibly be perceived as a bad thing, and yet, it has actually been met (only by Christians) with resentment. That I would be in doubt as to their God. That I would not already know them to be so embraced. Or worse still, that I would even consider the possibility of the existence of any other God but theirs! WOW !

Neither Catholics nor Protestants seem to have any edge in this. Individuals from both sectors of Christianity have assailed me with equal rancor for such sentiments. I DO NOT IN ANY WAY wish this to be construed to mean that I have any problem with Christians, be they Catholic or Protestant. I do live in the United States of America, and so Christians invariably make up the overwhelming preponderance of my neighbors, acquaintances, and, indeed, friends. For the most part I find them to be good people. Of course I also believe that if I lived anywhere, I would find the majority of my neighbors, acquaintances, and friends to be good people. I happen to hold the predominance of Humanity in quite high esteem, when taken AS INDIVIDUALS.

In large groups, however I believe Humanity is far more susceptible to its own failings. It seems we will readily sink to behaviors in a “herd” that we would never dream of displaying on our own. In the case of this new breed of Neo-Conservative-Christians that has sprung up in the United States in the last twenty years, they seem far more ready to stoop to militant bigotry and aggressive ostracizing of anyone not clearly from their own fold. Also they have become so secure in the pervasiveness of their “herd” that they have NO problem acting out individually. How they hold such hateful behavior to be “Christian” eludes me. This is only the way to “Love thy neighbor as thyself” if thyself is a Masochist! I doubt very much that this is truly how they would have others do unto them. I think instead, in their zeal to proclaim their own piety to the world, they fail to consider how the one-sidedness of their words might harm others. Or, even worse, perhaps they have become so indoctrinated into the misconception of their own spiritual superiority, that they no longer care.

It has been my experience that the best and truest examples of Christian behavior can be found in those who practice their Faith quietly, and with little fanfare. They know that the true measure of their piety is found, not in boisterous public displays and affectations, but rather in the quiet places of their Soul, in that place where they truly speak to God. As for those who choose to shout their prayers on a street corner, or a public restaurant, or a bar...........who are they REALLY trying to convince?

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