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A friend told me that I could not not read Joseph Stiglitz’s book, The Price of Inequality (Norton, 2013), so I took him at his word. He was right; the Nobel Prize winner in economics has written something true and dangerous. In fact, I’m surprised he is still alive. People who risk telling the truth in the ways he has often end up dying for their honesty and courage.

In short, Stiglitz documents the fast-growing gap between a very small but enormously wealthy and powerful contingent of Americans and the rest of the population. It is a gap unknown in other western style democracies around the world, one only exceeded by totalitarian dictatorships and oligarchies. It is a gap that is the largest the United States has ever known and is growing larger. It is a gap engendered, protected by the resources of those at the tippy-top. And it is a gap that creates huge social instability that threatens all, including the privileged point at the top of the pyramid.

The great financial crisis of 2007 and the recession that has followed showcased this disparity and the unfairness that fills our entire financial and social system: Mega-bonuses for failing CEOs; bailouts of those who risked the country’s prosperity for the sake of greed with the tax dollars of those most hurt; deceptive tax code and legislation secured by armies of lobbyists, attorneys and campaign contributions; the dismantling of the social safety net while lowering taxes and creating tax loopholes for the very richest; laying off workers as the corporation makes enormous profit and pays outsized salaries and bonuses to those at the top. This list goes on. And they are legitimized, these practices, by creating mythologies that the more we insure that the very richest are protected the 99% will, too. But it doesn’t work that way. It never has.

For in depth exploration of the way that the top vacuums all the resources from the bottom, how deregulation allows exploiting by a market that is far from neutral, how our political process is controlled by the most powerful who always devise laws and decisions around their own interests, including instrumentalities like the Federal Reserve, read on. It’s chilling, but deserves our attention.

We have been in peril. It is not getting better and not because of “big government.” Our future as a people is at stake because of an enormous and growing inequality gap, one that is safe-guarded by the most monied and powerful. We now have less of a one person-one vote society and more of a one dollar-one vote society.

I am not promising you a pleasant read with this book. In fact, it tilts to the troubling side. But I can promise an enlightening read. My friend was right, darn him.

The Woodcutter

Posted: December 31, 2013 in Uncategorized
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“Earth’s crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The thing about epiphanies, God moments, break-ins of the sacred, is that they are everywhere because, as Browning said, Earth’s crammed with them. That means, of course, that these epiphanies are not as unusual as our ability or readiness to see them. Prayer is more like seeing differently than anything else so a prayerful life is walking through your days attentive to what is happening all the time.

My days have been filled with non-stop epiphanies, some more dramatic than others. They range from as simple as seeing a left over crumb of communion bread in a hymnal, to the moment of one’s last breath, to a unitary apprehension that I am somehow one with that which made me. They are everywhere. But I will share one.

Years ago I was in Nepal and visiting one of the hospices of Mother Teresa. It was a grace-filled place, meant to gather up the dying with gentle care and loving embrace at the end. Characterized by the upmost simplicity, people gathered in the interior courtyard and the surrounding hallways on simple mats. The sisters circulated and offered simple gestures of food, washing and prayer. It was enough.

The hospice was located near one of the sacred rivers. Adjoining the hospice was a Shiva temple with all of its fertility symbols, and by that a cremation pad where the ashes of the dead would eventually tumble into the river and float out to the abyss. Near all this was situated the encampment of a Brahmin holy man who we will call the wood cutter because, well, that’s what he did.

As people passed by, going about their business, this man would, on some time table known only to him, come out of his hut and approach a large log. He was skin and bones and gray-haired. He reached down, retrieved an ax, and held it in his two hands as he regarded the log in front of him. After gazing at it for some time he lifted the axe and delivered one exact cut, no more. And with that his work was done, for the time being, until he returned later to deliver one more cut.

As he turned from the log to return to his hut his eye caught my own, standing as I was in curiosity, entranced with this strange moment. And he smiled a big toothy smile like he had just won the lottery, or passed out cigars at the birth of a first child or received his first kiss. I will never forget that expression, the eyes, the utter contentment and his apparent sense that all was well with the world and with him, that he was doing exactly what he should be doing right then and there, chopping the log one blow at a time.

Because he didn’t tell me what it meant to him and rather returned to his meditation in the tent, he left me to surmise for myself the purpose of his wood cutting ways. I can only share my own impression of what it might have meant, and the strings I pulled together go something like this:

We are compelled to do many things but chopping a piece of wood is just as good as any, depending on what you are contemplating as you do it. Life is doled out one chop at a time, too, and soon enough the chopping will be over and the logs will remain. You can only chop one at a time because that is all there is, really, and doing it with your full heart and mind is what matters. And until you get to the point that chopping a block of wood is fulfilling as, say, building a skyscraper, you haven’t arrived because you’re attached to all the wrong things.

Most of all, though, was the expression of joy in the wood cutter’s face. I suspect that he could have been gathering mushrooms or playing with tinker toys and it wouldn’t have mattered, he would have experienced the same interior thing. If there was ever an epiphany about overcoming the compulsions of life, my compulsions, that would be it. And whenever I think that I must do one more thing to somehow justify my existence I think of his grizzled face, smiling, as the axe found its target one more time.

2013 in review

Posted: December 31, 2013 in Uncategorized
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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 6,300 times in 2013. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Judy Dench just gets better and better. Her portrayal of an older woman in search of the child who was removed from her early in life is stunning. The setting is that of a home for unwed mothers and their children run by the Magdalene Sisters. That name alone should shake the halls of memory. This particular order became notorious for the treatment of young wards under their care, exploiting them and profiting from their socially and religiously shameful situation.

The movie, The Magdalene Sisters, is required viewing, a Part I, to prepare for Philomena. It presents the story of the now exposed abuse of the Irish religious order. In terms of popular music, Joni Mitchell’s The Magdalene Laundries tells the story in song.

So now you have as much as three things to do, two movies and a song. The good news is that the scandal was eventually matched by a revelation of the truth and closure of the homes. That was much too late for many of the victims, but justice slowly turned. Philomena is the latest installment of the story and well worth the effort – both in making the film and receiving it.

Saving Mr. Banks

Posted: December 28, 2013 in Uncategorized
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I have to admit that I wasn’t especially motivated to see this movie. Well sure, Tom Hanks is playing the part of Walt Disney and Emma Thompson the author of Mary Poppins, P.L. Travers. That had to count for something. It did.

I was not prepared for the surprise I received, that this film would go so deep and leave me in tears. It is masterful. And I’m watching Mary Poppins again as soon as possible.

Never underestimate the way our personal stories interact with the imagination and the way they link with others in ways we never anticipate.

Five stars here. Here’s to every Mr. Banks and those who had one. Makes me want to fly a kite.

(Tim Carson shared the following meditation on Christmas Eve 2013 at Broadway Christian Church, Columbia, Missouri)

The funny thing about Christmas messages is that they are always based on the same story. And yet, like a diamond, that story has many facets. I have visited many of them through the years. But the one I share tonight is the most often overlooked. In fact, you don’t hear about it anywhere. That’s why I want to share it with you.

As you sing many of the carols, attend those bath robe Christmas pageants or glance at the cover of many Christmas cards you receive the traditional and popular version of the nativity, of what happened to the Holy Family in Bethlehem. And it roughly goes like this: Mary and Joseph come into town and there is no lodging available, except for an innkeeper who lets them bed down out in back in the stables. There are the animals and Jesus in the manger. See, this is how the world shuts out the savior.

I have no quarrel, theologically speaking, with that story. it is the one that I and most of us grew up hearing. There are truths to be mined there. It’s just that there is a difference between a tradition that has grown over centuries and what the earlier Biblical text actually says.

As I studied the Christmas story in Luke more carefully I noticed something unusual. The story says that Mary and Joseph travelled to Bethlehem for the enrollment and after they were there for a while it came time for Mary to be delivered. In other words, they had already been staying somewhere before she gave birth. If that’s the case then why would they leave where they are already staying and seek alternate lodging in some commercial inn, one that has no rooms but only a stable out back?

The answer to this question is found in one word, a word we have rather sloppily translated into English as inn.

When you hear that word, inn, and if you are familiar with the Gospels, you will automatically think of a parable Jesus told, the parable of the Good Samaritan. What does the good Samaritan do for the poor fellow beaten by the side of the road and left for dead? He binds up his wounds and then takes him to an inn where the man will recuperate until the Samaritan returns and settles his bill with the inn keeper.

In this story the Greek word behind our English word inn is pandocheion. This Greek word is the one most commonly used to define a commercial place for lodging, accommodations for travelers, a Motel 6. We’ll keep the light on for you at the pandocheion.

If this were the same word for inn used in the Christmas story then the traditional reading with which we are all most familiar might be upheld: Mary and Joseph sought accommodations as out-of-town travelers but when they couldn’t find a motel room they were relegated to the shed out back.

But guess what? It is not the same Greek word at all. If Luke wanted to say that they looked for a motel room and couldn’t find one he would have just used that common word for inn just as he did in the story of the Good Samaritan in his same Gospel.

In the nativity story Luke uses the much less common but much more specific word, kataluma. They put the baby in the manger because there was no room in the kataluma. Now we see that there is not one Greek word we’ve translated into English as inn but two separate words with two separate meanings. So what is the particular meaning of the Greek word used in the Christmas story?

The kataluma is neither an inn nor a motel. It is rather a guest room, an extra room, a dining room, or an adjoining room. In Middle Eastern fashion, all of these rooms are connected to or an extension of the house, often times interior courtyards where the animals are safely kept. A kataluma could be any of these extra rooms of the house used to house guests.

When we take the fact that Mary and Joseph already had accommodations and had been there some time before she delivered and that they were not out wandering the streets going from motel to motel, we have a different story. What is likely is that Mary and Joseph had returned to their ancestral village and were most likely receiving the hospitality of extended family. They were staying with family and had been there for some time.

This past Thanksgiving our family headed to my brother’s house in Kansas City. My brother’s family extended hospitality to us, offered to put us all up. But their house did not have sufficient rooms outfitted with beds so they offered to furnish their office with inflatable mattresses so we could all fit. There was no room in the guest room but they found other adjoining space in the house and were going to make it work. At least we would be together.

When it came time for Mary to deliver, they were not searching the streets for an available motel room. There was no room to put the baby in the kataluma – the guest room –  perhaps because there was other out-of-town family staying with them for the enrollment, too. So they placed him in a manger, right there in the house. One meaning of the Greek word for manger, phatne, is indeed a feeding trough for animals. But another meaning is also a place for guests. And since there is actually no mention of the friendly beasts hovering around the baby in Luke’s story, the phatne might be another guest chamber, one beside the guest room.

All things considered, this changes our understanding of how Jesus first came into the world. This is not a story in which the holy enters the world amidst hostility and darkness. The starting place is a different one.

Whatever else comes later, the beginning of God’s appearance among us is centered in the place of our living, our homes, there where families live and children are born and grandparents grow old. The beginning of the Christmas story is not one of rejection but rather joyful welcome. This was not a birth of isolation; it was most likely just the opposite. Most probably Mary and Joseph were surrounded by loving and caring extended family. Mary’s birth was attended by older women who served as midwives and the child was welcomed into the world amidst adoring and proud aunts and uncles and cousins. It was a family event.

That is what the shepherds find as they come down out of their fields into town and gaze into that Bethlehem house. And that is the way it is meant to come to us as well.

Whatever else comes later in our lives, the beginning place of our story with God is one of joy and welcome, God showing up in the midst of family, daily life and the other great events that mark our living. This story, our story, is an exceedingly tender one and leads us back to the place of belonging, a place to which we may return time and again, a state of original peace and harmony that precedes any of the ways we later separate ourselves from God or neighbor.

So on this holy night, let your shepherd feet run toward the sound of angelic voices, the deepest place in this world or within you, the Bethlehem of the soul, and within the city a house, and within the house a guest room, and beside that guest room a manger, and in the manger light and then more light. And you are home.

He literally won the lottery. His winnings were some $40 million. He knew immediately what he would do with it: give it away to charity. All of it.

What does it take to do that? How could he? What is the motivator?

Well, we’re not going to psychoanalyze him. We can’t get on the inside of his head. But some surface explanations were immediately forthcoming.

He said that he had made an exceptionally good living already and had an adequate retirement income and resources set aside for family for the future. He was not hurting. He thought he had enough, perhaps more than enough. So, he reasoned, why should he have more? Here is a man who knows what enough, more than enough, is.

I am not so sure that most people know what that word, enough, really means. Acquiring more, even when needs are met and even luxuries provided, always seems to be merited in our materialistic society. There is more available so I should take it or sacrifice for it.

Here was a man who knew what enough meant. Did he know more about acquired wealth that he didn’t share? Did he believe that such a windfall would bring unexpected consequences? Did he know from experience that it could ruin him, his children, his relationships? Had he read Steinbeck’s The Pearl and ran like a madman and cast the great pearl back into the sea?

And what of his altruism? What forces – from childhood to the present – shaped his sense of giving? Who modeled the life of compassion, service and generosity for him? Had he always treated his resources this way? Did this event, coming as it did in the winter of life, awaken him to “now or never” urgency; if I’m not generous with this kind of opportunity then when could I be generous, ever?

$40 million. What would you do with it? Why?

Perhaps it seems a strange place to describe with terms like joy, especially for a profession routinely associated with pain. Your dentist is perhaps one of the last places you want to go. Other that a routine cleaning you are generally in that chair for painful reasons. But when I think of my dentist and his office I do not have any of those negative associations. Rather, I think of joy. I asked myself why.

1. The staff members – from Dentist to hygienist to receptionist – treat one another with extraordinary respect. They like one another. They work but have fun at it. They cheerfully help one another when they can.

2. The person at the top sets the tone by demonstrating the behaviors and style that are desired.

3. Careful selection of staff has already occurred; the right people are on the bus.

4. Everyone seems clear about their purpose and what is expected.

5. Allowance is made for special staff circumstances and the need for time away.

6. The faith orientation shines through in subtle but clear ways.

7. Attention to patient care is the highest priority. This is reflected in the way patients are treated both inside and outside the treatment room.

8. As a team they experience high self esteem as the result of being highly successful. People appreciate them and tell them so.

9. The entire office is highly efficient – from treatment to finances – but they maintain a highly personal approach all the while. They balance being high-tech with caring about people.

10. There is one thing I do not know but would venture a guess: I would guess that the staff is adequately compensated for their work. It is simply consistent with the rest of the way they do business.

Ten days left to Christmas – what in the world to give to that special, hard-to-buy-for person?

Of course, a copy of The Square Root of God (says the unabashedly self-promotional author!)!

From now until Christmas you may purchase your own copy at a dramatic discount – 40% off! Just sign in here: https://www.createspace.com/4245420 and enter the discount code: RE45ESSB.

Act now! Delivered to your door!

Columbia Faith and Values just ran my book review of Chris Stedman’s Faitheist (Beacon, 2012). To read the whole article click here.