Sunday, January 15, 2006

Ears Open to Obedience You Gave Me

The readings for the second Sunday in Ordinary time are:

  • 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19
  • Psalm 40:2+4, 7-8a, 8b-9, 10
  • 1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20
  • John 1:35-42

One effect of cell phones is that we tend to get calls in strange places -- most of us have our favorite story of where we took a call. As a corporate systems programmer, I spend a certain amount of time "on call". I have been called or paged on a plane waiting for takeoff, in the middle of the night at home, in the bathroom, and, of course, in church. (And yes, I do set my phone on silent before Mass starts.) We associate "call" as something you get on the phone, not something that comes from God. This other kind of call is what we hear about in today's readings.

Last week we celebrated the Epiphany of the Lord, the transforming revelation of just who Jesus is, a revelation that changes how we see ourselves and the world around us. This week we hear about how we must respond to that revelation, that call. There is the familiar story of the call of Samuel to be a prophet, and the call of Andrew and Peter to follow Jesus. There are certain common factors in all these stories that teaches us about how we can recognize and respond to the call from God.

Samuel hears God calling him by name in the silence of the night, but cannot understand it without Eli's help. And in the Gospel lesson, we hear of some of the first to follow Jesus:
John was standing with two of his disciples,and as he watched Jesus walk by, he said,"Behold, the Lamb of God." The two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus.Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them,"What are you looking for?"They said to him, "Rabbi" - which translated means Teacher -,"where are you staying?"He said to them, "Come, and you will see."So they went and saw where Jesus was staying,and they stayed with him that day.

It was about four in the afternoon. Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter,was one of the two who heard John and followed Jesus.He first found his own brother Simon and told him,"We have found the Messiah" - which is translated Christ - Then he brought him to Jesus.Jesus looked at him and said, "You are Simon the son of John;you will be called Cephas" - which is translated Peter.
From this we can see that first, a call often comes through another person, or can only be understood with another's help. This kind of call requires response - are called to do something to get closer to God. And response to the call of God transforms us, makes us new people, with new names.

You can spend your whole life waiting for that still small voice that Samuel heard. Some people never make a decision, never answer that call. Others, eager to hear something, end up hearing only the reflection of their own desires. In my own life, God has ususally called to me through people I trust. This has included teachers, pastors, friends, and most importantly, my wife, Marilee. My willingness to move forward on the diaconate comes chiefly from the encouragement of one good friend, and my wife's support. When you think such a call comes to you, share it with someone, and you may find out much more than you expect.

God calls us into encounter with Himself. In both of the stories in today's Gospel, Andrew, then Simon, are called to see and talk directly with Jesus, and to journey on with Him. God calls us expecting a direct response.

Those who make that response, who answer that call, will never be the same again. Samuel became a prophet: "the LORD was with him, not permitting any word of his to be without effect." Andrew's allegiance changed from John the Baptist to Jesus, and this change was so profound that he had to go get his brother Simon, and bring him to Jesus. The sign of transformation for Simon was Jesus renaming him Cephas, or Peter. As we learned last week, knowlege of who Jesus really is changes everything.

Each of us as Christians have been, in Baptism, called by God. But it does not stop there. We who have ears to perceive will percieve, with the help of others, that God continues to call us to Himself, to change us into the persons we were created to be, to give us back our own real names.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Reflecting on Preaching

Over the past couple of years in detention ministry, I have found it useful to work up a brief reflection on the Sunday lessons, to "have in my pocket" when I go inside. Flexibility is everything inside and I can end up teaching a class, assisting in a Legion of Mary session, or holding a communion service with little notice. Having thought through the lessons, and come up with some brief and direct reflection, I am better prepared to handle whatever comes up.

And it makes such a difference in how I experience the Mass myself.

Recently, Texas Dominican Fr. Philip Powell, O.P. has presented a couple of excellent posts on practical homiletics on his blog, Domine, da mihi hanc aquam. The Art of the Homily and Mechanics of a homily..., along with the comments, are excellent reading, even if all you want is to understand better what your pastor is doing all week to prepare for Sunday. I like Fr. Philip's definition of a homily:

so, what IS a homily?
  • a liturgical device of Speaking the Word, giving the Word of God voice for today
  • authentic, authoritative instruction in the living faith of the Church
  • an exhortation to communal and personal holiness, encouragement in the face of despair
  • an "unpacking" of the readings in a way that addresses real problems of faith
  • a liturgical device for raising questions, suggesting answers, stirring up trouble, getting into fights
Of course, Fr. Philip is a member of the Order of Preachers, so one expects him to be pretty good at this, and the homilies that he posts support that. He's not the only Dominican on the web that I have learned from. Fr. Jude Siciliano produces First Impressions, which has been an important resource for me.

Preaching is becoming a more important topic for me as time goes by, and it is one of the reasons why I have considered the diaconate. It's not a matter of having something to say myself -- that's what a blog is for, after all. It is that from time to time, God seems to have something to say, and to my frank shock, seems to want to say it through me for reasons I cannot understand. I would not be my first choice.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Quote: St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein)

The duties and cares of the day crowd about us when we awake each day - if they have not already dispelled our night's rest. How can everything be accommodated in one day? When will I do this, when that? How will it all be accomplished? Thus agitated, we are tempted to run and rush. And so we must take the reins in hand and remind ourselves, "Let go of your plans. The first hour of your morning belongs to God. Tackle the day's work that he charges you with, and he will give you the power to accomplish it."
Source: Edith Stein, Essential Writings

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Hmmm . . . Time to buy

For some reason yesterday, I flipped by the site for The Atlantic magazine and found that the top article was "The Year of Two Popes" by Paul Elie (of The Life You Save May Be Your Own). Of course, most of the test was behind the pay wall, and I noted that this might be worth a trip to B&N Saturday (I still have a gift card from Christmas burning a hole in my wallet).

Rocco at Whispers in the Loggia thinks that would be a good idea:

Run out of your house, find the closest high-brow newsstand or B&N, and buy it. It's worth the five bucks. Don't walk -- RUN.

I was forwarded the text earlier and have gotten numerable e.mails about it since. And it just shines, it sings -- Allen smokes, the Romans spin and even the Amato Papa Roberto Mickens gets a word in edgewise. Elie's dead-on with his analysis, mostly as he's saying a lot of things I've been saying for months. (After all, who compared CDF and Stato to the Red Sox and the Yankees last 29 June? You're welcome. And I did it for free.)

Yep, Rocco is definitely an acquired taste, but I have acquired it. Looks like a copy of The Atlantic is in my immediate future.

Update: Stopped by the B&N on the way to an appointment -- the December issue is still on sale. Sigh. Maybe Saturday . . .

Thanks, compadre

Many thanks to Bill Cork of Tischreden for giving this new blog it's first link -- which is not surprising as Bill was one of the first to link to One Pilgrim's Walk.

Quote: Anne Lamott

..for some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid pieces of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet you or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die. They are full of the things that you don't get in real life--wonderful, lyrical language, for instance. And quality of attention: we may notice amazing details during the course of a day but we rarely let ourselves stop and really pay attention. An author makes you notice, makes you pay attention, and this is a great gift. My gratitude for good writing is unboundec; I'm grateful for it the way I'm grateful for the ocean.
Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Quote: Thomas Merton

A contemplative is not one who takes his prayer seriously, but one who takes God seriously, who is famished for truth, who seeks to live in generous simplicity, in the spirit. An ardent and sincere humility is the best protection for his life of prayer.
Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation

Monday, January 09, 2006

Its not about us, so let's get over it

It seems to happen every few years. Some network tries to come up with either an "edgy" or funny (or both) series featuring either clergy or religious. This time NBC is trying with The Book of Daniel, featuring an Episcopal priest, his rather challenged family, and a rather vapid Jesus, by all reports. I don't think I will find the time for this one.

But forgive me if I pass on all the outrage bouncing around the Blogosphere these days. Too many are claiming that this stupid show is a deliberate insult to Christians. To quote an old phrase, never ascribe to malice what can be adquately explained as stupidity. Diane Winston of USC wrote in the Sunday LA times that if not stupidity, the problem may be a special kind of incompetence:

This misses the point. "The Book of Daniel" doesn't disparage Bible-believing Christians. Instead, it demonstrates the difficulty of turning serious religion into entertainment. Religion can be played as sentimental, spooky or satire, but doing it straight — think "ER" repotted in a synagogue — is hard to pull off.

In large part, this is because we treat religion as a special case. Whether we're atheists, agnostics, secularists or believers, we all hold religious leaders to higher standards. Doctors, lawyers and politicians can be noble and flawed — isn't that why we love Jack Bauer ("24"), Gregory House ("House") and the late, great Leo McGarry ("The West Wing")? But imagine any of these characters with a collar or a kippa, and tell me it doesn't make you squirm.

Maybe because we see priests, rabbis and imams as stand-ins for the divine, we expect more of them.

I would not go that far. People of faith, at least, are very familiar with their leaders being both noble and flawed at the same time. The problem I think is with writers, actors, and directors (even well meaning ones) getting beyond easy structures and tricks. The limitations of the network program form are extreme. You have a precise number of minutes to get a story going before you have to break for the first commercial, and you have to give your viewers some reason to come back after the break. If you watch enough sitcoms, you start to notice some similarities of pattern and method, patterns and techniques that have been tested over time and work within the limits of the form. Certain kinds of characters and relationships are easier to work with. The issue is not chiefly artistic or religious as commercial. You have to come up with a program that will sucessfully keep commercials from colliding with each other. Gordon Atkinson (also known as Real Live Preacher) writes in points this out in Salon (subscription or watching a commercial required):
Yo, brothers and sisters in Christ. They weren't making fun of you. It's much worse than that. The folks at NBC don't care about you enough to make fun of you. They don't even know you exist. You are not a part of their world. They want to make money, that's all. This is no great mystery or secret. They're not hypocrites; they're capitalists.
Which is something we better get used to. As I pointed out a few days ago, we no longer have a priviledged postion, we have to duke it out in the secular media with everyone else. But, according to Atkinson, we should not be depending on the media:
But I think all the uproar from Christians is symptomatic of a more disturbing trend. More and more Christians seem to think that affirmation from our culture is where they will find their power. Since when do religions need affirmation from television stations? That's a little shallow, don't you think? What we should be doing is practicing our devotion and letting our changed lives speak for themselves.

And I've got news for you, Christian. If your faith isn't changing your life enough to make a difference in the world, you've got bigger problems than NBC.

Oh, there is something a little ironic that I want to mention. The first six chapters of the actual book of Daniel -- the one in the Bible -- are about a young man named Daniel and some of his friends who are trying to live out their faith in a very hostile foreign land. Trust me, the Babylonians were much worse than NBC. Daniel's solution was to doggedly worship God in their own way, and let their lives be a quiet and steady witness of their faith.

Their devotion produced a living and real goodness that even won the heart of the King in the end. And all of this happened because they were not foolish enough to try to change Babylon, but rather changed themselves.

In a postmodern world, media savvy and resulting cynicism is common. We will have to re-establish ourselves one person at a time by how we really live, and how we genuinely communicate the Good News that we are living out. No shortcuts.

Quote: Flannery O'Connor

The experience of losing your faith, or of having lost it, is an experience that in the long run belongs to faith; or at least it can belong to faith if faith is still valuable to you, and it must be or you would not have written me about this. I don’t know how the kind of faith required of a Christian living in the 20th century can be at all if it is not grounded on this experience that you are having right now of unbelief. “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief” is the most natural and most human and most agonizing prayer in the gospels, and I think it is the foundation prayer of faith.
Flannery O'Connor, from a letter to Alfred Corn, 1962

Sunday, January 08, 2006

From the river to the ends of the earth

The lessons for the feast of the Epiphany are:

  • Isaiah 60:1-6
  • Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13
  • Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6
  • Matthew 2:1-12

We all like stories. The stories we tell about our lives and our faith reveal more than almost any amount of theological discussion. Scripture is largely a collection of stories, told by many different people in many different ways, that are all part of one great story, the story of God, how he loves his people, and how far he will go to save his people. The story today in the Gospel lesson is one of the very best, the story of the journey of the Magi to present gifts to the infant Jesus.

Now, one of the most popular kind of stories is a mystery story. The starting point is an event that is unexplained or secret in some important way, along with a person who really needs to find that explanation or discover that secret. We are hunters, problem solvers. We keenly follow the hero or heroine on their the hunt, as they face challenges and overcome obstacles. In taking us along on that journey, the best mystery stories reveal not only the secret, but something important about the characters and ourselves.

We, as people of faith, use the word mystery a lot. For example, it is one of the most used words in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. I like this (from a chapter end summary): "God has revealed himself to man by gradually communicating his own mystery in deeds and in words." This kind of mystery story consists of the deeds and words where God reveals Himself to us in a way beyond our own natural reason. Unlike a detective story, this kind of mystery is not a secret that we can discover without help, or a puzzle that we can figure out on our own. It is God showing some part of His own self to us, explaining our own secret parts to us.

God revealing himself to us transforms how we see the world and ourselves. We call this kind of revealing that transfers how we see everything an epiphany.

In today's second lesson, St. Paul tells of such an epiphany, one that transformed how the People of God must view those previously seen as being completely outside of the community of God:

Brothers and sisters:
You have heard of the stewardship of God's grace that was given to me for your benefit,
namely, that the mystery was made known to me by revelation.
It was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed
to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit:
that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body,
and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the
gospel.
This is the feast of the Epiphany of the Lord, the transforming revelation of the secret of who Christ is, that changes how everyone sees the world. The Gospel story that we read today is one of the most familiar and beloved: the journey of the three Magi seeking the infant Jesus. Herod provides suspense and intrigue -- the travelers from the distant East provide the color and taste of the exotic. It has been a part of countless pieces of art, movies, and even an opera. And what creche would be complete without the figures of the Three Wise Men, their gifts, and of course the camels they rode in on. A great story -- but what is revealed here?

Well, just what Paul was talking about. When we tell the story of the Magi, we are reminding ourselves that even while Jesus was the infant child of poor refugees he was recognized as king, high priest, and redeemer. And this recognition did not come from the religious leaders of the day, for they were nowhere to be found in the stable in Bethlehem. Herod, the political leader, wanted to protect his position by hunting down and killing this baby. Recognition came from the poor and outcast, and from representatives of the non-Jewish world, the gentiles. This revlelation, this epiphany, transforms our view of Jesus as the one promised to lead Israel alone to political freedom, to the one who will die redeem the entire earth, and rise again. We are no longer on the outside listening in, but part of the main story itself.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Robust competition, whether we like it or not

Another notable answer to The Edge's featured question, "What is your most dangerous idea?" This is from Daniel Gilbert, Professor of Psychology at Harvard University:

Dangerous does not mean exciting or bold. It means likely to cause great harm. The most dangerous idea is the only dangerous idea: The idea that ideas can be dangerous.

We live in a world in which people are beheaded, imprisoned, demoted, and censured simply because they have opened their mouths, flapped their lips, and vibrated some air. Yes, those vibrations can make us feel sad or stupid or alienated. Tough shit. That's the price of admission to the marketplace of ideas. Hateful, blasphemous, prejudiced, vulgar, rude, or ignorant remarks are the music of a free society, and the relentless patter of idiots is how we know we're in one. When all the words in our public conversation are fair, good, and true, it's time to make a run for the fence.

This is a reality that some Christians have a hard time handling, particularly when trying to reach out to a postmodern culture. It's not nice out there, and we better get used to it. In the fullness of the Kingdom all the words in public conversation will be "fair, good, and true", just as ours must be right now. But that freedom to be offensive, ignorant or rude is the same freedom we have to present the Good News to the world. If we spend too much of our time and effort trying to shut someone else up, others may have little regard to what we have to say. It's time to realize that, as Christians, we no longer have a privileged position in this society to speak from. Many people will not stop and pay attention to us just because we say we represent Jesus, or the Church. The challenge now is not nominalism, but secularism. Our message is going to have to compete head on with all the other ones floating about, just as it did quite successfully in the Roman world.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Quote: Abraham Joshua Heschel

The greatest task of our time is to help our fellow human beings out of the pit. God will return to us when we are willing to let Him in—into our banks and factories, into our Congress and clubs, into our homes and theaters. For God is everywhere or nowhere, the father of all people or of none, concerned about everything or nothing. Only in His presence shall we learn that the glory of humankind is not in its will to power but in its power of compassion. We will reflect either the image of God's presence or that of a beast. There can be no neutrality.
Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Mark of Cain

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Dangerously Alone

There's a fascinating statment at Edge.org's feature asking a variety of outstanding scientists and technologists what their dangerous idea is. Leon Chalupa's (neurobiologist from UC Davis — go Aggies) is silence:

Our brains are constantly subjected to the demands of multi-tasking and a seemingly endless cacophony of information from diverse sources. Cell phones, emails, computers, and cable television are omnipresent, not to mention such archaic venues as books, newspapers and magazines.

This induces an unrelenting barrage of neuronal activity that in turn produces long-lasting structural modification in virtually all compartments of the nervous system. A fledging industry touts the virtues of exercising your brain for self-improvement. Programs are offered for how to make virtually any region of your neocortex a more efficient processor. Parents are urged to begin such regimes in preschool children and adults are told to take advantage of their brain's plastic properties for professional advancement. The evidence documenting the veracity for such claims is still outstanding, but one thing is clear. Even if brain exercise does work, the subsequent waves of neuronal activities stemming from simply living a modern lifestyle are likely to eradicate the presumed hard-earned benefits of brain exercise.

My dangerous idea is that what's needed to attain optimal brain performance — with or without prior brain exercise — is a 24-hour period of absolute solitude. By absolute solitude I mean no verbal interactions of any kind (written or spoken, live or recorded) with another human being. I would venture that a significantly higher proportion of people reading these words have tried skydiving than experienced one day of absolute solitude.

Well, I'm one of them, at least to a limited extent. I am an oblate of New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur. This is a community of Camaldolese Benedictine hermits, and is perhaps the quietest place I know, 1,800 feet above the Pacific Ocean with a 20 mile view down the coast. Every year, I spend at least a few days on retreat there, alone. There are nine rooms in a retreat house, and several small trailers just below the main community, for those who want even more solitude. You can join the monks for the liturgies during the day, or meet with a priest for confession or spiritual direction. Or you can just be by yourself, alone with the silence.

The first time I went there, I was given one of the trailers. And for the first day I climbed the walls -- I had never been so alone, even with something to read (which violates Dr. Chalupa's rules). But I started to handle it the second day, but I didn't really go cold turkey. In addition to books, I would walk up to the bookstore when it got too much. Each time I have gone to the Hermitage, I have found it a little easier to drop into solitude, and to just be alone with God a little longer.

Dr. Chalupa himself notes that one of the few places where you would encounter this is at a monastery (the other being solitary, today generally referred to as Ad Seg). If you want to assess the kind of changes that are going through our society, consider that religion, beyond being something to debunk, is no longer a taboo subject for all scientists. The scientific world view is different from the religious, and each is useful for different things. One of the signs of the postmodern world is the tolerance of different, and at least apparently conflicting, ideas and world views. The recognition is that all world views have their limits, and fields where they apply well -- humility is required.

I guess it's back to believing seven impossible things before breakfast.


(Thanks to Xeni Jardin and Boing Boing for the link.)

Quote: Dorothy Day

It is not love in the abstract that counts. Men have loved a cause as they have loved a woman. They have loved the brotherhood, the workers, the poor, the oppressed - but they have not loved man; they have not loved the least of these. They have not loved “personally.” It is hard to love. It is the hardest thing in the world, naturally speaking. Have you ever read Tolstoy’s Resurrection? He tells of political prisoners in a long prison train, enduring chains and persecution for the love of their brothers, ignoring those same brothers on the long trek to Siberia. It is never the brothers right next to us, but the brothers in the abstract that are easy to love.
from Dorothy Day, Meditations

Sunday, January 01, 2006

-ern, -ernism, -ernity, whatever

There it is, right on the top line of this blog, that "p" word:

. . . seeking the seeds of the word in a postmodern world.
Not everyone likes that word, too many people use that word, and most people do not understand that word. But there is an important idea tied up with it that I find useful. I need, though, to sort out a couple of different uses of the word here at the start.

  • Modern - this means more than just "new" or "up to date". In talking about the Modern age, we generally refer to the roughly two centuries or so dominated by the ideas of the Enlightenment and the socioeconomics of the Industrial Revolution. This means a rational, empirical, and individualistic world-view and a society built around the ideas of progress, rational management, and mass organization.

  • Postmodern - well, on its face, it means "after modern," of course. For more than a century some have seen the signs of the passing or transformation of the modern world view. When something is called postmodern, it means something that is not simply pre-modern, un-modern, or anti-modern, but something fully influenced by "modern" ideas, but having a new relationship to them.

  • Postmodernism - this is a highly varied and often controversial group of social, political and aesthetic theories that try to account for a world not driven by Enlightenment ideas. Postmodern literary and social theory is largely the product of a group of largely French post-60's writers such as Lyotard, Derrida, Foucalt and Jameson. In my opinion, these and other writers have some useful insights, but you don't have to be a "postmodernist" to think that the basic idea has merit.

  • Postmodernity - or as I often think of it, the postmodern predicament. There has been a loss of confidence in the enlightenment ideas, a recognition of the failures of modern political and social structures as well as deep doubts about the reality of progress, one of the foundations of the modern world. Much of our culture and many of our institutions, including religious institutions, have been deeply influenced by modern ideas. Those who have grown up in this postmodern predicament often feel alienated from these institutions, even if they agree with much of what these institutions were originally intended to teach and do. It is certainly up to you whether you agree with any one persons response to this situation, but you cannot ignore that the situation exists. In the words of Daniel Patrick Moynihan, "Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But not their own facts."

That's a start. I want to revisit some of this in the coming weeks, looking at how Christianity, especially from the Catholic perspective, needs to respond to this postmodern predicament.

Point Taken

A good start for the new year would be to stop using some of the hackneyed phrases that have been floating around, like these:

  • Surreal
  • Hunker down
  • Person of interest
  • Community of learners
  • Up-or-down vote
  • Breaking news
  • Designer breed
  • FEMA
  • First-time caller
  • Pass the savings on to you!
  • 97 percent fat-free
  • An accident that didn't have to happen
  • Junk science
  • Git-r-done
  • Dawg
  • Talking points
  • Holiday tree

Some of these seem useful, but most are ready to dissapear. My first New Year's resolution . . .

Saturday, December 31, 2005

Quote: Thomas Merton

We too often forget that faith is a matter of questioning and struggle before it becomes one of certitude and peace. You have to doubt and reject everything else in order to believe firmly in Christ, and after you have begun to believe, your faith itself must be tested and purified. Christianity is not merely a set of forgone conclusions. Faith tends to be defeated by the burning presence of God in mystery, and seeks refuge from him, flying to comfortable social forms and safe convictions in which purification is no longer an inner battle but a matter of outward gesture.
The distinction that matters is not between those whose theology can be called conservative or liberal, but between those who are committed to Christ as he is, and those who are committed to a Christ that does not challenge, that matches their own expectations. May we all be willing, in this new year, to "believe firmly in Christ", accepting the struggle that requires.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Quote: Anne Rice

It’s our duty to tell the Christian story over and over again. Those of us who are doing it now for the first time are doing it for a new generation.

We need to do more Christian art of all kinds. Everything from stained glass windows to motion pictures to beautiful pieces of music. Art can give you an experience of Jesus that is available to everybody. Art seeks to resolve theological questions by the use of specific images, I think--to embody ideas--rather than long verbal arguments. It seeks to move you emotionally so that you accept in a way that you may not be able to intellectually if you’re dealing with argument. And I think that’s a magnificent thing.
from Prodigal Daughter: An interview with Anne Rice, by Jessica Mesman in Godspy

Nooz . . .

The World Pyro Olympics are running through tomorrow in the Phillipines. From the pictures of last year's fireworks competition, I wish I was there.

The Space Show has started the Deep Space Communications Project, which gives one person every other month the chance to have a message beamed out into deep space. Sam Dinkins of Transterestrial Musings was the first winner with this entry:

We taste terrible.
Sam apparently has a great combination of a) having seen all the same movies I have; and b) having his resulting priorities in good order.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Thesis

So what is the point of this site, anyway? Well, let's keep it simple . . .

In the mid-nineties, as the dot-com bubble started to inflate, I worked as a programmer in the Bay Area. I started to hear about Burning Man, the annual arts and whatever else festival held annually Labor Day weekend in the Nevada desert. Not only did I read about it in the SF Chronicle and Wired, I worked with people who attended, people I thought were otherwise fairly normal. But it was clear that their intense experiences at BM filled some kind of deep spiritual need, something that few of them felt that conventional religious groups, in particular most Christian churches, were capable of filling

In my earlier blog, I explored my own interest in those new and obscure ways that people were finding of meeting those needs, and I made several posts about BM. (All, of course based on other people's experience of it -- I have not made it to the Burn, and for good medical reasons, probably never will. I do think about it though.) One of the posts quoted extensively from BM cofounder Larry Harvey, who identified the success of BM as offering, as I wrote then, "powerful common experiences that fulfill the human need for ritual, for pilgrimage, for mysterious beauty in a postmodern society even though the participants do not share common beliefs." The final post for that series was never finished -- I started to trace both the background and consequences of those ideas, from the Christian viewpoint, and never looked back. What I found was that there were many others asking the same questions.

What I have decided to do is start to enter into conversation with some my fellow pilgrims on this journey, and that I still wanted to maintain some presence for my side of the conversation -- hence this blog. It will include my own experiences in trying to find out just what is the significance of postmodernity (of if it is significant at all) and how I need to work out my own life and ministry, in light of my own perspective as a Catholic. I can't promise daily posts, or great revelations. I can share my own experience as a pilgrim at ground level.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Technical Notes

Well, we're on the air, at least.

With a week to spare, this new blog is operational, replacing my old one. The process of moving from Manila to Blogger has been interesting, and educational. If nothing else, I am a lot more comfortable with rolling my own CSS than I was before. Not that I know what I am doing, of course.

There are a number of features of Manila that I am going to miss. The Frontier/Manila environment is richer than Blogger -- for example there are built in blogroll and print-friendly page features. But Blogger is working fine, and having a spell checker for posts is rather nice.

The main technical point so far is the template for this site. I tried out the standard ones from Blogger, and some rather nice third party stuff. But I pined away for the simple layout I had over on Manilasites so I started hacking. This format started as the standard template Tekka, as it was simple enough that I would not have too much in the way. I then started working through the code of my old blog to figure out what to do. After dumping the Tekka template into a text editor to clean it up a bit (like, how about a consistent format so one can read it) I then started to bring over elements of my former Manila theme.

The irony is that this theme has moved from one platform to another before. I was using a slightly modified version of Movable Manila Green, adapted for Manila by Bryan Bell. I have just continued the process on to Blogger. My current name for this is MM Blogger Green, version 0.5. The technical to do list is growing:

  • Clean up CSS for the right hand column, especially the bloglines section;
  • Add the proper doctype, style, and script type attributes so that the W3C validator utilities have a chance to figure out what's wrong;
  • Bring up to validated HTML 4.0 Transitional at the minimum - validated XHTML would be better;
  • Bring up to validated CSS;
  • Add Google search;
  • Rethink the various sections to provide a better Archives display page (I'm thinking of making it a single column, more printer friendly page);
  • Consider adding one of the calendar or category display hacks that are floating around.

I have all the content from the previous site downloaded in the Manila backup format. For a variety of reasons I don't have the facilities to use some of the scripts that have been helpfully created to convert it to different formats. But, just like a programmer, I have been noodling around with a text editor, and I think I have it worked out, enough to figure out what is what. I will be posting some of the more relevant old stuff under the original date as I move forward.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Holy Night

We worked the 4:15 pm "overflow" Mass in the parish hall last night. The 4 pm children's Mass was in the Big Church, but there is never enough room for everyone at that service. The late mass started at 10:30 with a choir concert, and there will be three Masses today. Marilee as usual was on flute, while I was a combination of lead usher, lead EME, and deputy sacristan. As usual, there were some problems, but things went well (for example, there wasn't water for washing set out, so I had to scamper back into the big kitchen to find a pitcher). I get the feeling, this is something I better get used to.

About the only thing that I can remember from confirmation class, is the priest telling us that at some point while taking communion, we would feel the connection with all the other people who are taking and have taken part in the Eucharist, especially those close to us. It happened last night, as was giving the Host to a couple of hundred people. This is always a strong experience for me, but last night a great deal of feeling rushed in without warning. My mother, Ann, died two months ago after a long illness, and her twin sister, Nan, died suddenly day before yesterday. As I have written before, I have felt that my grief breaker had popped, and I just couldn't feel certain things right now, which worried me. Last night it all seemed to come through, not just in pain, but also in joy. It was hard to hold on, and concentrate on the people in front of me. It was difficult, but good, and I think it will lead to other good things.

We are going inside today, perhaps for the last time for a while due to some personnel issues at the facility we visit. Christmas is a difficult time in prison, and we have had a lot more violence inside reported than usual, including one fight we saw ourselves. It will be a good day, though. Please remember all those who are away from home today, whether in prison, the military, hospitals, traveling, or trapped in poverty.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

The once and future blog

I have had a hard time working on what to say in this post. It is the first post, but it isn't the first post, in a way. While I have moved to this space on Blogspot, I did blog for four to five years on Manilasites.com, until they shut that down at the end of 2005. That site was One Pilgrim's Walk, a name that I first used on a tiny Netcom user website. I had a good experience with Manila and the folks at UserLand, and am nothing but grateful for the free ride.

But a variety of changes in my life have brought me to look over much of what I had been doing, and the intent that I had for the blog. It started mostly as a technical experiment, and then a brief attempt at pundithood. I got to find out that I don't have the spleen to be an angry ranter, and I am a slow and private writer with limits on my time, so trying to wallpaper the internet with complete coverage of something was not going to work.

So I am combining the move with a change of name. So this is not my first post, but it is the first post as well. As I manage to decipher the backup file from my old site, I will be posting some of my older material under the original date, so a bit of the history will survive. (And some will, thankfully, disappear.)

Monday, April 18, 2005

A leader for a pilgrim church

I'm not sure what the usage is in many places, but at our parish, we observed nine days of mourning for Pope John Paul starting immediately after his death, and concluded with a special Mass last Monday night. His body is now at rest in the earth as he asked, and the conclave starts in a few hours. We may never in this life understand all that John Paul did for our church -- we haven't really closed the book on the effects of many of the popes of the last century or so. But we can start to get some perspective. Many call for immediate sainthood, while others, both in and out of our church, point to feet of clay. I think that the proper place to start is not with how we see this one dear and holy man, but how we see our Church, and how the Church changed over the past 50 years.

God gathered together as one all those who in faith look upon Jesus as the author of salvation and the source of unity and peace, and established them as the Church that for each and all it may be the visible sacrament of this saving unity. While it transcends all limits of time and confines of race, the Church is destined to extend to all regions of the earth and so enters into the history of mankind. Moving forward through trial and tribulation, the Church is strengthened by the power of God's grace, which was promised to her by the Lord, so that in the weakness of the flesh she may not waver from perfect fidelity, but remain a bride worthy of her Lord, and moved by the Holy Spirit may never cease to renew herself, until through the Cross she arrives at the light which knows no setting. -- Chapter 9, the Dogmatic Consititution on the Church, Lumen Gentium
During most of the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Roman Catholic Church was in a defensive stance in relation to the rest of the world -- and who could blame us? After the Enlightenment, French Revolution, Napoleon and the spread of secular nationalism, I can understand the need to take a couple of aspirins and lay down in a darkened room for a couple of decades. (By the way, this is a topic that we could spend years on . . . but not today.)

It was becoming clear by the end of the Second World War to many in the Church that it was time to change, to become in the words of the Council, a pilgrim church. In my view, each of the four postwar popes has played a specific role in this process:
  • Pope John XXIII opened the windows of that darkened room and committed the Church to figuring out just how it could bring the eternal truths of the Gospel to a changed world while still remaining the Church.
  • Pope Paul VI did the hard work of leading the Church through and past Vatican Council II and into that new relationship. We came out of that room, but stood blinking in the sun and noise that we were not used to any more.
  • Pope John Paul I in a few short weeks changed the idea of what a pope could be.
When John Paul II was elected, the Church was out and involved in the world in any number of ways -- to continue to stretch a metaphor too far we were out on the street, but we resembled a mob -- some busy, some not, many going in different directions. To shift images, we had decided that yes, we were setting out on pilgrimage, but to some it seemed that we could not choose between Lourdes and Las Vegas. My belief is that John Paul II knew that he had to be a new kind of leader, a different kind of pope, a pilgrim leader for a pilgrim church.

To do this, he had to call the Church back to a fuller understanding of her eschatological dimension -- that we are to be prophets proclaiming the Reign of God and calling all men to join on a pilgrimage that is aimed not at a geographic destination but to union with God. To be this kind of church required a renewed humility, and a restored unity. In his own style, John Paul II was in so many ways the simplest of all modern popes, losing the regal trappings and emphasizing his role as bishop, not prince. You could see this once again in the funeral Mass -- no damask pall or golden vestments, but cardinals vested rather simply in red, and just a simple wooden box. The too glibly repeated title of "Pilgrim Pope" came from his numeous trips, but it could be better applied to his efforts to energize real ecumenical progress, especially with the churches of the East, and with other religions, especially the Jews. He was not afraid to take the first step, to apologize or offer change without any final assurance of a response.

And he never stopped calling us all onward. Many (including me) have recalled over the past weeks the impact of hearing him say "Be not afraid" and feeling it as a personal call. In recent years though, I noticed his use of a different phrase, duc in altum from:
ut cessavit autem loqui dixit ad Simonem duc in altum et laxate retia vestra in capturam
Which is from the Gospel of Luke chapter 5:
Getting into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, he asked him to put out a short distance from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. After he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch." Simon said in reply, "Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets." When they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing. They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come to help them. They came and filled both boats so that they were in danger of sinking. When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at the knees of Jesus and said, "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man." For astonishment at the catch of fish they had made seized him and all those with him, and likewise James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were partners of Simon. Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men."
It was no longer enough for us to simply not be afraid, we need to move well past where we are used to being, we need to put out into the deep and lower our nets. This is the challenge I am trying to live up to now.

A very wise person once said to me that the most important choices one makes sometimes are the choices of what not to do. In choosing to be a leader for a pilgrim church, in doing what was necessary as completely as he could, John Paul II made choices of what he would and would not do. And choices have consequences. By choosing to be the kind of leader he was, he could not be other things, such as an administrator or Curial reformer, and that has had its consequences, some of them bad, including many of the problems that some critics are citing. There is no way around this for any of us, this side of the grave. All we can do is make the best choices we can. If things do not go as well as we would like, it does not mean that we have made the wrong decisions, just the best ones that we could.

The leader can only take you so far, can only show the way -- the rest remains to us. As for the next person chosen, they will have to make the best decisions they can based on what they see. But we truly are a pilgrim church again, and I don't think any one pope could change that.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

One-dimensional Figures

I have commented on stories from Real Live Preacher before. Yesterday, he posted a story titled Visiting My Picasso, which recounted a small incident which revealed much about where he was writing from.

As for me, I’m here to visit my cousin who has broken her life into little pieces that can never be put together again. Prison has taken the shards of that life and assembled them into a Picasso-like image of her former self. Both eyes and her mouth are now on the same side of her face, and she speaks to me through glass framed by black steel. I don’t know how she will function on the outside. Perhaps she will have to be broken down and rebuilt again when she gets out. I wonder who will be up to that task.

Something about this place shatters everyone connected with it and rebuilds them into angular, one-dimensional characters: The guard, the warden, the prisoner, the visitor. This is not the world you know, and good intentions count for nothing. Even an innocent encounter with a stranger can spin off in directions you can’t imagine, and there is always someone looking down from above, making the worst possible guesses about who you are and what you might be up to.
Very true, this, and it is something you have little to no control over. The challenge is detention ministry is how to break through this and somehow help all those in the system to be more than one dimensional if they choose.

You have to hold onto the knowledge that what you do is often not that important. What is important is who you are, and that you are faithful and present. A key part of our work is that nobody is paying us to be there, and we are not relatives of anyone inside -- we don't have to be there, we want to be there. We have nothing to give but our attention, we're not there to hand out money, or goodies, or get out of jail free cards.

And that is what is so hard, so exhausting about this work. When inside, you really have to be seriously present all the time, completely there for everyone you are dealing with. The person or persons in front of you right now have to get your best attention, but at the same time, you must remember where you are the the limitations of that. You can't coast and daydreaming will not work. By the time we get back to the car on a Sunday, we are often limp. And you will never know about many of your greatest victories and defeats -- and you will sometimes wonder if you are having any effect at all.

But when you can really engage another person in a way that, even if just for a minute, takes them outside the place they are in, whether it is the prison outside or the prison within them, you offer them the opportunity to be someting more than one-dimensional characters in a badly written play. The nature of these places makes this difficult, and the stange relationships between the various groups can make is difficult to effectively work with more than one group at a time. In detention ministry, we are told that our calling is to everyone in the system. The reality is that if you work with prisoners, you probably will not be that effective with corrections officers or administrators, and security restricts you from dealing with visitors. That's a sad effect of the one-dimensionality of the relationshipes between the groups involved.

So you do what you are able and allowed to do, you make yourself present to those you are there for, and you leave the results in the hands of God.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Christ on the Playa

Well, I'm back with the next installment in my series on Burning Man -- a couple of weeks later than planned.  Blame work and trying to keep up with a class that I'm in -- both good ideas but the post just kept slipping.  Well, onward.

There's never been much question that some find Burning Man a deeply spiritual experience.  Don Thompson of the Las Vegas Sun (thanks to Religion News Blog for this) talked with some of them:

Jacques Rossouw of San Francisco sat in another niche playing haunting reverberating music on a didgeridoo, an instrument he learned living with an aboriginal family.

"I find Burning Man is spirituality without the church, without all the religious practices," he said. "It doesn't come with any of the traditional strings attached."
The role of spirituality at the Burn has been noticed by others, according to Thompson:
"The people who are going to Burning Man - Boomers and Xers - are the most educated generations in history. They're trained to question," said Jerome P. Baggett, who teaches religion and society at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, Calif.

They're more likely to see religion as a lifelong search for meaning, and to look beyond a single traditional faith, he said. For a week, they can experience mass rituals that can mean everything, or nothing at all.
Other Christians have their doubts, to say the least, about the festival. One thread on Philip Greenspun's LUSENET web bbs titled "A Believer in Christ" details a wide variety of responses to one poster's equation of Burning Man with idolatry. I can understand both the concern of this poster, as well as the reactions of some of the responders. Other responders I simply could not understand.

Randy Bohlender has a different perspective on the festival. He's a pastor in Kansas City who has been to Burning Man several times, with a team of Christians handing out thousands of bottles of water to show the other participants a different side of Christianity. The first experience in 2000 redefined his idea of weird:
After spending those days in the desert, discussing philosophy with a man wearing nothing but a rubber chicken, and watching a group called "The Sacred and Propane" fire off huge propane bombs, things I would have stared at before no longer get my attention. A few days after leaving Burning Man, I gathered with some friends in Washington, DC. In the 100 degree heat and high humidity, we watched a man walk down The Mall in a white tuxedo and a top hat. My friend said "Isn’t that the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?" I had to tell him no. That was pretty mild compared to what we’d witnessed in the desert.

Conversely, things about the church that would have never garnered a second glance from me before Burning Man now grab my attention. More then once in the past few weeks I’ve thought about some of church in respect to Burning Man and muttered "THAT is weird!" In that sense, Burning Man drew me back to scripture.

Lamentations 3:40: Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord.

Failure to examine ourselves will lead to the fostering of our own peculiarities. The church is full of such idiosyncrasies that, when viewed from an objective point, seem much more weird than the rubber chicken-wearing philosopher.
In the article quoted from above, as well as his essay Why I go to Burning Man and entries on his weblog, Randy does not spend his time judging Burning Man, rather, he reflects on his experiences and what they imply about himself and his faith.  And while I will summarize and exerpt some of his comments, you really do need to go and read these essays -- it's rather good stuff and Randy has been quite gracious in letting me use some of his writings here.

He finds it weird that the church strives to convenience people when people really thrive on challenge, and the church world appears to have been made from a cookie cutter. While he no longer finds it wierd that people will go to great lengths to escape their reality, Randy finds it weird that so many Christians are satisfied with their present reality.

In explaining why he still goes to Burning Man, he explains that "the playa puts me in my place", that God uses the desert to show him that he is more than what he owns or consumes, to strip away what is peripheral.  He goes back because creativity points to a creator, and gifting looks a lot like God's idea. He returns  because the church has spent too many years at the trailing edge of society, a point I will return to in the next installment of this series.  And Randy goes to Burning Man because he has something to offer:
It didn't take me long to acquire the burner's innate disdain towards spectators. Consuming social capital while contributing nothing to the greater good of the whole, they are societal parasites. We received an incredible variety of things on the playa. Our neighbors made us homemade ice cream. A flamenco guitar player named Tao favored us with a song. Three hilarious young men located somewhere above 255 entertained us with a tag team story telling session that remains so vivid an experience that I laugh out loud when they appear on our video tape. It seems everyone had something to offer, and my 'something to offer' is what brings me the Black Rock City. My gift, though taking the form of a bottle of water, is really much more than that. I come to present hope...a bite sized morsel of grace that people can take home to chew on for themselves.

Towards the end of the week, one young man approached me and said "can you confirm a couple of rumors I've been hearing?"

"Sure" I said.

"Word on the playa is that you guys are all from a church." The way he said 'church' led me to believe he probably didn't believe the rumor.

"Yep," I said, "We are."

His eyes grew wide. "And I also heard that you are a pastor."

"Again, confirmed."

He then moved in for the kill. "And I heard you came out here to convert us all."

I looked both ways as if to see if we were being spied on, leaned forward and asked "Do you own your own home?"

He seemed a little stunned. "Yeah. Bought it last year." "How long did you look for a house?" I continued.

This line of questioning was not what he expected. "I don't know - maybe six months."

I smiled. "Okay, so it took you six months to find a place to live. That's not unusual. Some people look for a year or more and no wonder...it's a huge decision. If it seems normal to look for a house that long, don't you think it would be arrogant for us to anticipate that you would make a major religious paradigm shift out here in the desert in just one or two short conversations?"

"Uh, yea" he said. By this time, he was more puzzled than he had been when he walked in.

"We're not so arrogant as to expect that you're going to change everything about what you believe just because we told you...but we do think that if you walk away from this experience thinking a little differently about God or the people who claim to serve Him, that's a good thing. Drink our water. Hang out. Be our friend. Then go home and make your own decision about the God that motivates us."

I go to Burning Man because I have something to offer...a fresh perspective of an old institution. An image of the church rising from the ashes of hypocrisy to prove itself relevant to the age...an image of a church made of servants, in the model of Jesus, caring for people and loving God.

And that's why I go to the Burn.
This leads directly into the next, and probably last segment of this series, which is my own reactions to all of this.  It's been a a documentary up to this point, pretty much,  putting together a piece from here and a link from there to try to paint a picture of an event that I think may be significant, but that I have not attended myself.  I want to discuss the deep needs that the Burning Man experience seems to disclose, why those needs are not being met, and what in the festival may, in some way, adresss those needs.  In particular, I want to dive into why the Church may not be meeting those needs, and a first couple of guesses on what might change that.

Monday, September 06, 2004

Postmodern Man

Ok, so the seventh largest city in Nevada (it's true, the four after Las Vegas and Reno aren't huge) is the provisional week long annual settlement, Black Rock City, the site for the Burning Man festival.  This the third piece in a series of posts about BM, and it's time move from the history of the event, to the underlying rationale (if you want to call it that) for the whole shindig.  This will include two fair sized excerpts of interviews of the co-founder of the festival, to provide some insight into what has guided the development of Burning Man up to this point, and presumably will guide it into the future.

Larry Harvey started BM with some friends on a San Francisco beach 15 years ago, To provide an escape from what he calls (in this exceprt from an interview by Darry Van Rhey) the postmodern situation

Postmodern means that in our time there exist many different types of "now". Nearly every style and every idea that has ever existed now has its adherents. We live in an eclectic age. There's no defining paradigm, no single idea to unite us. Historically modernism meant progress, science, rationalism; the extension of our conscious control of the world. To be modern meant that one had shed myth and superstition, all the unreasoned traditions of the past. The race had reached adulthood. As moderns we would order things differently. We would no longer blindly serve the past, but work to construct a new future that was based on rational principles. The unconscious would be analyzed, houses would become "machines for living", the form of everything would be designed to follow a rational function. Aided by science, we could completely control our destiny. But people no longer believe this is so.

DVR: Why? What has happened to destroy our confidence?

LH: Two World Wars, for one thing. Suddenly science was perceived to be doing these monstrous things. Science, we realized, was only a tool; a means, not an end. It couldn't produce any ultimate values; rational mind reached the end of it's tether. The final horror of the Nazi death camps lies in the realization that such evil results were arrived at by thoroughly rationalized methods. Sure, other historic atrocities match this in scale, but the Nazi's ran factories -- marvels of applied science. And, of course, there's the Bomb. Suicide and scientific reason strolling hand in hand. People still believe that science can command the world-- more so than ever, I think. But our faith in reasoned progress has been shattered. And there are other factors as well. The world has expanded, gone global. We live now in the midst of many voices, many competing traditions. We've become very self-conscious. We now question assumptioms. We've lost the assurance that once made forthright action possible.

DVR: So what faith are we left with? Are things simply falling apart?

LH: Nothing so dismal as that. The good side of postmodernism is that we're so free and sophisticated. We can choose from the past. Today in America every idea or creed or lifestyle that has ever existed is laid out before us, as if spread on a giant buffet, a never-ending post-graduate course. Never in the entire history of mankind has such freedom existed. Never before have individuals been so empowered to shape their ends.
This is a better description of postmodernism than I have found in many more formal treatments. I am not nearly so sanguine about the result, but I must accept that we do live in a truly postmodern world, dealing with broken myths and broken symbols.

In this 1994 interview (interviewer not identified) Harvey discussed the need for ritual, the lack of true ritual in modern society, and how the creation of ritual plays a key part in Burning Man.
L - . . .We encourage people to invent ritual, to invent games. Every year someone will devise some kind of performance art. You can call it performance art, you can call it ritual. I think performance art is basically an attempt to recreate ritual, for the most part, at least that's the impulse behind it. Last year suddenly this giant hand appeared next to the Man with a mysterious circle in the center. Nobody new what it meant. It got burned, I have no idea who did it. It was enormously expressive. Every year things get invented. If something delights everyone and there seems to be an instant consensus, if this was indeed an expressive and meaningful thing, whatever it might mean, as long as it strikes a chord, we tend to find out who did it, encourage them to continue, or adopt it and somehow incorporate it into the things we consciously plan from year to year. And by that means we acquire a measure of received tradition. We're building a body of that. It's all a result of spontaneous contributions on the part of people.

R - This is a growing tradition, I mean some of the traditions are kind of, have been fixed. You're definitely in the realm of what is traditionally considered religion and that area, you're on the same kind of ground.

L - We're definitely on the same kind of ground.

R - Most religions don't encourage the creation of a new ritual. (Laughter)

L - No they don't.

R - It's kind of like this is the way it is.

L - Well that's distinctly what divides us from religion. Historically religions have pretty uniformly derived from some kind of primary mystic experience. The charismatic figure goes out in the desert, comes back with this wonderful visionary message for their fellows, and that vision then gets translated into a religious observance . We take people to the threshold of religion. Our aim is to induce immediate experience that is beyond the odd, beyond the strange, and beyond the weird. It verges on the wholly other. It contemplates a realm of profoundly irrational experience. I think that kind of experience is the fountainhead for all religions. Essentially what happens to religions is that a priestly class intrudes in the process and stations itself between the believers and the immediate, the overwhelming the unfathomable, the irrational the transcendental experience that inspired the religion in the first place. They become the keepers of the mystery . They place themselves between the communicants of the religion, and the immediate experience. And then they dictate the terms on which you can have contact with this wonderful mystery. We don't dictate those terms. We create a mystery alright, and we encourage others to create a mystery. But we don't propagate any doctrine; we don't insist on any metaphysical interpretation. We just invite people to the experience itself. If you look at what we're doing, it's on the pattern of stone age ritual, you know. Using pretty slender means, we evoke something tantamount to a megalithic temple complex. It involves a pilgrimage to a remote place, an initiation. The focus of our whole ritual is sanctified in the sense that it's removed entirely from the world. Put in a place profoundly apart from ordinary experience. The Black Rock Desert is about as far apart from ordinary experience as you could get. It involves meditation on an extraordinary object, which in it's setting seems to be incomparable to anything else, to be almost not subject to the normal rules of our perception. It culminates at last in a act of sacrifice. It's all done on a cosmic scale. This is plainly the stagecraft of religion. That's what we practice, yeah.
I quoted these two passages at some length, both to make sure that there was some context, and becaise there is a lot to learn from both. Summarizing from the various posts, Burning Man has grown from a group of friends on a beach to a emporary experimental society of thousands, based on powerful common experiences that fulfill the human need for ritual, for pilgrimage, for mysterious beauty in a postmodern society even though the participants do not share common beliefs. The next post will review what a pastor has written about his experiences at Burning Man.

Friday, September 03, 2004

Growth of the Man

OK, you have a fair sized town that comes into being for one week a year, in the middle of a desert, then dissapears without a trace.  It's not Brigadoon, it's Black Rock City, and this is the second segment in a series on Burning Man, which is going on right now.  Haveing looked at what BM has become, the question is, how did it develop?

The history of Burning Man can be split up roughtly into three periods:

  • the early years on a San Francisco beach (1986-89)
  • the years as a largely "underground" event in the Nevada desert (1990-1996)
  • Burning Man as an established event with major public impact (1997-?)
It started on Baker Beach in the Presidio of San Francisco in 1986 with Larry Harvey, Jerry James and maybe 20 friends (from this interview):
That was one thing, I don't know, you know, it was done on an impulse, I just thought, suddenly, that it'd be a great thing to build a large wooden man and burn him. You know the more I think about it, the farther back I can trace, in a sense, I've always been fascinated by religious ritual, by sacred architecture, by monumentality. ...  And clearly, when we went to the beach so casually, and burnt figure that was only 8 feet tall, slightly taller than us, we weren't quite prepared for the experience. Suddenly, poised against the flat horizon of the ocean, he seemed prodigiously bigger than us. And when soaked with gasoline, he incandesced! Gasoline was the wrong fuel to use; it's very volatile. We're lucky we didn't blow ourselves up. He just turned into this wonderful ball of fire instantly . And we were thrilled, we were transfixed by it . It turned out to be a more moving image than I had guessed it would be, and instantly drew what few people were on the beach to it. People are fascinated by fire, and when you combine fire with the human form, I think it has a certain significance that certainly transcended our intent. So we just came back and did it the next year.
From the beginning, powerful common experiences, such as the Burn or life on the playa, drove the development of the festival.  These experiences created community in the midst of radically diverse expression, gave people a new perspective on their lives, and were good reason to come back each year.  But over time, two key interrelated tensions seem to have developed. The first is between the need for autonomy and the need to manage the effect of the festival on the communities around it.  The other is between the sometimes anarchic past and what Burning Man is becoming.

The burn on the beach was repeated for three more years, until the local authorities started to have a problem with a party burning objects on a public beach.  This is the start of the first essential dilemma of BM: how do you create and maintain that autonomy from the surrounding "real" world that makes powerful self expression and the key common experiences possible, while managing the effect, if not damage, that the festival causes to that surrounding world.  The threat of not being able to hold BM next year has been a constant part of the history of the festival, and seems to have been a supporting cause for some core values of BM, such as Leave No Trace.

Instead of using a beach the next year (1990) Harvey and 100 others headed east to Black Rock Desert in Nevada and burned a 40 foot high man.  For the next several years, the festival grew and developed many of the characteristics is it is best known for, but it stayed an underground event, largely known only in the Bay Area.   By 1996, though 10,000 were attending the event, and media attention arrived as well.  Possibly the best piece on it was by cyberpunk author Bruce Sterling in Wired (which I quoted from in a previous post). Brian Tierney has some pictures of BM from the early 90's (most of the very early BM web sites are now dust).

The next year (1997) it had started to become a media event, especially on the web, and BM's roots in the Bay Area in the mid to late 90's meant that it would get maximun coverage on the web, and later, in the general media.  Burning Man now finds itrself in the position of being famous -- and that causes problems.  There is now a formal organization staging BM, Black Rock City LLC, which organizes activies year round in several locations, and contributes to art organizations.  BRC LLC continues to try to find the balance that will allow the festival to grow and thrive.

Lessley Anderson's article Burning Spin in the SF Weekly outlined the strict control that the BM organization exerts to influence how the festival is seen, to keep it stricly non-commercial, and to protect the privacy of participants.  It's a matter of survival:
For Burning Man organizers, not wanting the event to be widely portrayed as a rave or Mardi Gras is hardly a matter of aesthetics; stories that paint Burning Man as a big party scene jeopardize its hard-won, cordial relationship with local Nevada government and law enforcement officials -- and, therefore, its very existence. Though Burning Man brings cash into Reno and the tiny towns of Gerlach and Empire that sit on the edge of the Black Rock Desert, the festival is still viewed suspiciously by many locals.

"These people, they look different. The onus is on them to, you know, they're going to be scrutinized," says Joanne Bond, a county commissioner for Washoe County, through which participants drive and shop on their way to Burning Man. "You can't have purple hair and not stand out."

"I have people make comments all the time about Burning Man, and their perception is driven by media coverage," says Sheriff Ron Skinner of Pershing County, where the event is held. "I think the media has focused on the party atmosphere of Burning Man rather than the art aspects of it. And I think that those people looking to that type of atmosphere have flocked to Burning Man."
Anderson outlines one news report of widespread drug problems that, while inaccurate, caused a crackdown by local law enforcement.
It is exactly the kind of public misperception created by an inaccurate and simplistic wire report that Burning Man's organizers seek to avoid via hard-edged media relations tactics -- and simple repetition. "Burning Man is a celebration of self-expression," says Goodell. "It's not a giant party."

...

At first glance, Burning Man's media policies may seem draconian. In the abstract, it is easy to hold that Burning Man intrudes too far on journalists' right to report the news, and on documentary-makers' ability to express themselves through their art. But when you remove Burning Man from the world of abstraction, and look at it in the context of the real world and real-world media practices, you can see that the event's press-relations strategy is necessary for survival. Without spin control, Burning Man could spin right out of the organizers' hands into an environment controlled by people who fear, suspect, or simply dislike the event's essential messiness, and its aims.
Not everybody is happy with BRC LLC.  As time has gone by, the list of rules that will be enforced has grown.  For example, dogs are now forbidden, and local police are much more numerous on the playa with a change in attitude -- they will make arrests for activities such as selling drugs.  And that leads to the second dilemma -- the conflict between the past and the future.  Google the term "BMorg" and you will find a sizeable set of complaints about the effect that the growing BM organization has on the once anarchic playa.  These complaints run the gamut from decrying the influence of some people close to founder Larry Harvey have, to the amount of time it takes to get a permit for using their flame thrower.  (It is Burning Man after all, and fire art remains a big thing.)  Sone of the posts read like the normal nose-out-of-joint complaints you find in any smal town or nonprofit organization.  Others, in my opinion, are expressions of nostalgia for the anarchists summer camp that the early Black Rock festivals reportedly were, when Burning Man was flying under the radar of just about everybody.  That won't work now, when Black Rock City is for one week, reportedly the seventh largest city in Nevada.  The early days are gone, and can't be brought back, so for some of the pioneers, the Burning Man is dead.

Changes continue at BRC -- The SF Chrionicle has a good story about efforts to better handle the growing number of families with children at the Burn, and a some of the artists that would be at the festival this year were part of the protest activities at the Republican convention this week.

The two essential dillemas are still visible in the latest development -- the possibility of a permanent home for the festival.  The existence of Burning Man each year is dependent on how well the federal Bureau of Land Managment feels the festival met their commitments the previous year.  As part of the effort to make Burning Man a year round organization, BRC LLC is looking for a place of thier own, according to the SF Chronicle:
Founder Larry Harvey envisions a place where affiliated nonprofit organizations could gather -- perhaps with a conference center, a park for the event's trademark huge outdoor exhibits, and facilities for creating interactive artworks that could be transported to gatherings nationwide.  "That's going to be a huge leap, and it's going to take some fund-raising," Harvey said. The most likely location is in Nevada or nearby, relatively close to the festival 120 miles north of Reno.

But some participants at this year's event said the thought of permanence is contrary to the Burning Man experience.

"This is about leave no trace and that includes the art," said Colleen Wynn, 35, of Seattle. "It's temporary art for a temporary audience. That's what's so unique -- people spend thousands and thousands of dollars for something that goes away. Forming a permanent collection, I think, would take away from the original spirit,"
A permanent home would probably mark a fourth and different age in the future life of the Burning Man. That future will rely on how well Larry Harvey and the BM organization find that balace between the festival and the outside world, and between their own past and future.

We've taken a look at the festival, and how it got here.  Next, Larry Harvey's opinons on why Burning Man exists, and what may keep it going.

Saturday, August 21, 2004

Out in the Desert

Labor day weekend sees a lot of strangeness in a lot of places -- it's the end of "official" summer -- but for the past decade something rather strange has been going on out in the Nevada desert for the week leading into Labor Day - Burning Man.

Mark Morford tried to capture the essence of BM in the SF Chronicle:

This is the essence of Burning Man. It is extraordinary and dirty and dangerous and hilarious and annoying and raw and smelly and hot and spiritual and real in its deep, deep whimsicality.

It breaks down everything you think you know and replaces it all with scenes and images and odors and a purified, skewed, inverted sense of community you will very likely never know again, unless you go again next year.

Some people disagree. Some think BM is just one big drug-addled rave party in the desert. Some think it's a giant dumb naked group-sex romp. Some believe it's Satan's own breeding ground, a giant filthy Club Med for neo-hippie drifters, a glorified yuppie ogle-fest, a creepy fire ritual, some sort of overblown self-important masturbatory quasi-tribal jamboree masquerading as sensual adventure.

These people are absolutely right. But they are also completely wrong.
The first detailed description that many people read of BM was in cyberpunk author Bruce Sterling's 1996 article in Wired:
The place feels like the afterlife. When you walk across it, you just drift over endless cracked whiteness, lifting your feet maybe a quarter inch from the surface. It's all mobile; it's all temporary. Twist the ignition key and drift with the wind.

Burning Man is an art gig by tradition. Over the longer term it's evolved into something else; maybe something like a physical version of the Internet. The art here is like fan art. It's very throwaway, very appropriative, very cut-and-paste. The camp is like a giant swap meet where no one sells stuff, but people trade postures, clip art, and attitude. People come here in clumps: performance people, drumming enthusiasts, site-specific sculptors, sailplane people, ravers, journalists, cops. I'm a journalist and a newbie, but even I can tell the pros from my fellow newbies. The veterans have brought their own pennants, bicycles, flashlights, and tiki torches, plus enough water for anything.

The alkali dust is like a fine and bitter talcum. It gets into everything, so why fight it? Just throw off your clothes. Keep maybe a straw hat, shades, and boots. Throwing off all your clothes is the cheapest, quickest way that was ever invented to cop an attitude. It's also a cool youth-culture solidarity move. Young people look great without clothes. Young people don't need 'em.

Vehicles have scattered all over the playa. It's as if a giant bowl of mixed nuts had dropped off a kitchen counter onto white linoleum. The parachute-covered Central Camp does duty as the broken bowl. All around it are cashews, peanuts, and sunflower seeds: dinky pup tents, some bigger pop tents, RVs, pickups, trailers. There's even an honest-to-goodness geodome erected by some ambitious guys who have brought a crane. Their towering construction crane arouses much envy, and they get to boast of having "the biggest tech on the playa."

The streets are vaporous formalities. They're premarked with tiny colored plastic flags: the flags get bent, they get stepped on, they even get run over. But once the idea of a street is established, the community standard holds.

You're not supposed to throw anything away on the playa. You're supposed to leave nothing at all. The idea of leaving no visible trace is a central part of the Burning Man zeitgeist, a performance-art process move. The organizers are very specifically eco-correct - maybe because they're so lighthearted about tolerating most anything else.
That was in 1996 with 10,000 attendees -- and at least three trimes as many show up now, to a more organized evert. Certain things seem to be consistent from then to now, and here is my take on some of them.
Black Rock City, a "Temporary Autonomous Zone" -- One of the fundamentals of Burning Man is that you are now in a completely different place than the "normal" world -- whatever that means. As I understand it, this is an experimental, temporary, and recurring community removed in many ways from the framework of expectations, prohibitions, and perspectives that surrounding society imposes on individuals and groups. There is nothing unconditional about this autonomy -- while any number of laws seem to be winked at during the festival, Burning Man has rules, and they are enforced, often to preserve that temporary autonomy from the outside world. Black Rock City is laid out in a set of coincentric circular and radial streets, centering on the figure of the Burning Man. The Esplanade at the center is where many art displays and theme camps are set up and where the most people are. But one large segment of the circle is left open, for various activities and temporary structures.

Radical Self Expression -- The stated purpose of Burning Man -- A purpose of "temporary autonomy" is to remove any unnecessary barriers to self expression, which can result in art objects, performance, or just walking around the playa looking weird. One of the requirements of truly radical self expression (from one's own roots or center) is self knowledge -- and such expression can also enhance that self knowledge. This ends up including all the raucous and notorious activities that Burning Man is known for -- as well as some truly sublime art.

No Spectators -- Yes, you over there behind the car. Everybody is a participant at BM so get cracking and find some way to express yourself, even if it is as small as being a volunteer or creating a really snazzy camp with flags and lots of lights. This is a show, but everybody is a member of the cast. I don't think this is a minor point, it plays a major part in protecting radical self-expression. You don't worry about looking like a fool if everybody looks a little crazy -- you're just part of the club.

Radical Self Sufficency/Gift Economy -- The only things that you can buy at BM (after paying a couple of hundred for the ticket in the first place) are ice at Camparctica and coffee/chai at Center Camp. Everything else you either have to bring with you, trade with some one else, or recieve as a gift from someone else. It's a long, long way to the nearest 7-11. One form of self-expression is to bring things to BM to simply give away. The outside economy in reverse.

Leave No Trace -- Everything you bring in, you take out with you, unless you can burn it. The agreement that BM has with the Bureau of Land Management requires them to leave the playa (intermittent dry lake) with little or no trace that Black Rock City was there. They are still cleaning up scorch marks from campfires built directly on the playa years ago, when the rules were looser. One part of this is that you cant use your car or motocycle in Black Rock City, unless it has been recognized as an "art car" by the DMV (the Department of Mutant Vehicles).

Theme Art -- Each year, Black Rock City has a theme (this year it is the Vault of Heaven) that many of the individual campers try to work into their expressions. Of course, many ignore it. There are buidings, camps, exhibits, displays, costumes, performances -- the best way to understand it at this distance is to either browse the Burning Man site or just Google it. There are thousands of pictures and books full of stories out on the net about people's art and experiences. In recent years, one specific expression has gained a great deal of attention. Marin County artist David Best has been building, often out of scrap plywood, incredibly beautiful multistory temples, offered as places of memory, mourning and remembrance. Along with the Man, these temples are burned at the end of the festival.

The Burn -- The climax. On Sunday evening, everything comes together at the center of Black Rock City for displays of fireworks, fire art, the burning of art objects created only for the week, and the Burning Man itself.

This is an introduction to a the much larger subject of an annual event producing intense and life changing experiences for thousands of people. Next post -- the development and meaning of BM in the words of it's primary founder, Larry Harvey.

Friday, August 20, 2004

Coming Attraction

Just about two years ago I decided to restart this blog. I have managed to post at least a few times a month and often several times a week. (My original target was at least once a day. So much for good intentions.) What got me blogging again was looking at pictures from the 2002 Burning Man festival, which is coming up again over the Labor Day weekend at Black Rock Desert in Nevada. I started to collect a couple of links and started an article, but never finished it. I think it is time to put all this together and get it posted.

I try to watch for signs in the world around us of spiritual hungers not being met, and what people are doing to try to meet them. I think Burning Man (BM) presents us with a rich display, if we care to look.

My basic approach is to split up my research and writing into roughly four or five essays, with at least three of them to come before the Burn this year.

  • What is Burning Man? -- a view of the event and it's history, in particular how it has been seen in the various media.
  • BM as Post-Modern Event -- one of the founders of BM has given a number of interviews on the festival as post-modern art and experience. An exploration of what may be the intent, social significance and meaning of BM.
  • A Pastor at BM -- an pastor has been attending BM, and he has some unique insights into the event, and the place of God there.
  • My Reflections -- my own summing up, as someone who has never been there, and probably for good medical reasons, never will go. (I am having to say that more and more -- very strange.). I am starting to think that this may be more than one part, with reflections and what may be lessons on evangelism as separate segments. These may well be after the event this year, and incorporate what happens this year.
I have one very important point that should be made before I get started. A lot of things go on at Burning Man, things that are not consistent with Christian practice in almost any sense. Public nudity and occasional sexual activity, recreational drug use, a variety of religious practices including some activities that Christians might find offensive are clearly part of BM. It is a "temporary autonomous zone" where anything goes and anything can be questioned or mocked, including persons and symbols that we as Christians hold sacred. This is not an event that you should schedule for your next parish youth group event. A lot goes on there that, if I were there, I would just not do. Even if I could. Don't even think that I am endorsing everything that goes on there -- but I am not going to be spending a lot of time trying to judge or condemn it either. That is not the point to this examination.

BM is also an event that includes sublime art and temporary architecture, tremendous creativity, and an important alternative view of how human society can work. I think we can see some of the deep human needs that are not being met in our culture here in the west, needs that the Church must address.

Updates: I will post links to each of the individual posts as they go up
Out in the Desert - an introduction to Burning Man
Growth of the Man - how the festival started, and the challenges it faces
Postmodern Man - word from founder Larry Harvey about the basic ideas behind the festival
Christ on the Playa - spirituality, in particular Christianity, at the festival

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Messianic Kingdom

The lessons for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time:

  • Zechariah 12:10-11
  • Psalm 63:2-6,8-9
  • Galatians 3:26-29
  • Luke 9:18-24
There is a temptation when reflecting on the lessons appointed for a particular Sunday. You can perform a variety of mental gymnastics to try to make all three readings (and the psalm as well) fit into some single theme. Some weeks this works, some weeks it does not, and the bishops that put together the Lectionary warn against trying to see some link that is just not there. Not every set of readings go together in that way, and most homilists will pick some single theme from one of the lessons, quite often the Gospel lesson, to preach on.

But this week I am going to give into that temptation, because I think there is a common thread underlying several different readings, a common theme that is not immediately apparent, but is very important. The first reading, from Zechariah, is the least familiar. Christians generally see phrases like: and they shall look on him whom they have pierced and see a connection to Jesus. This would make this entire reading a propecy of a sort of the coming regin of the Messiah. This will include, according to this passage, an outpouring of the Spirit that brings both grace, and the call to repentance:
I will pour out on the house of Davidand on the inhabitants of Jerusalema spirit of grace and petition;and they shall look on him whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him as one mourns for an only son,and they shall grieve over him as one grieves over a firstborn.
The Gospel selection is much more familiar and is a continuation and expansion of this theme. Once Peter declares him the Messiah, he warns:
He said, "The Son of Man must suffer greatlyand be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,and be killed and on the third day be raised."Then he said to all,"If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himselfand take up his cross daily and follow me.For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it."
We see that it is the destiny of the Annointed One to suffer, be rejected and die -- and then rise from the dead -- him who they have pierced indeed, but with a different and more triumphant result. He then turns the table on his disciples and tells them that it is not only His own destiny, but theirs as well as anyone who wants to be a follower of Jesus.

At first blush, Paul seems to be on a different wavelength. This selection from Galatians is also very familiar -- in fact it includes one of the most astonishing statements in scripture:
For all of you who were baptized into Christhave clothed yourselves with Christ.There is neither Jew nor Greek,there is neither slave nor free person,there is not male and female;for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
This is saying that membership in the baptismal community transcends nationality, class, or gender, all things that divided the Church of both that time and this time, as well as all human societies. The compilers of the lectionary though, included the next verse:
And if you belong to Christ,then you are Abraham's descendant,heirs according to the promise

This means that as baptized persons, we are, today, full members of the Messianic Kingdom spoken of by Zechariah and other prophets, even though that kingdom has not yet been fully realized on earth. Taken together, we learn something important about the Messianic Kingdom of God proclaimed by the prophets, brought into reality in Christ and lived out today. As members of that Kingdom, there are three specific calls from God that we must respond to, calls to recognize the truth and confront where we have not lived up to it:

  • Repentance -- We are first called to confront where we have fallen short, and change direction. Zechariah warns that one effect of the outpouring of the Spirit is that we will finally recognize the evil that we ourselves have done, and understand the consequences. This is a call to honesty and integrity.
  • Action and Sacrifice -- Not only must we confront what we have done wrong, we must commit to following the truth, no matter what the cost. This is not some one-time decision, but an everyday reality. We must choose to die to ourselves, to live in Christ.
  • Unity and Humility -- Once we have taken these two steps in our own lives, we must confront the reality of the Kingdom in both the Church and the world. That reality is that no matter what apparent barriers there may be from race, class or gender, the fellow Christian in front of me is my very brother or sister in reality right now, no better or worse than I am. We are called to treat every human on earth this same way.
One important point from all this, is that answering the first two calls is necessary to being able to answer the third, and the first two are not complete unless they lead to unity and humility. That's about it for tonight.