Church of the Churchless

How to talk with each other

It bothers me when visitors to this blog don't talk courteously with each other. Now, I realize that this is an endemic problem in cyberspace. Anonymity breeds contemptuousness.

Everybody who leaves comments here is a person (possibly aside from some robo-spam, which I have to delete now and then).

Yet if the people who engage in heated Church of the Churchless comment conversations were face to face in a coffee house, it's hard to believe that they'd be talking to each other in their online fashion. Even, or especially, if they'd just met.

There's no hard and fast rules for talking with each other. All I can do is share my own experience about what works and doesn't work.

By "work," I mean that the conversation, the dialogue, is satisfying and productive. For everybody. People feel that they can say what they want, and be understood by others. Disagreements don't degenerate into verbal fist fights.

This isn't rocket science. Mostly it's common courtesy. And application of the Golden Rule. Talk unto me as you'd like me to talk unto you.

I'll listen to you if you listen to me. I'll consider what you have to say if you consider what I have to say. If you don't like being called insulting names, then don't call me insulting names. If you can't stand self-righteous proclamations, then don't proclaim self-righteously.

I've done a lot of public speaking. I'm married to a psychotherapist (recently retired from many years in private practice). I got a master's degree in social work myself, before I realized that I wasn't cut out for counseling. I've been part of a monthly Salon discussion group that has met for many years. I organized dozens of community meetings where controversial death with dignity and health care rationing topics were discussed. I've been in the thick of highly emotional land use battles on both our neighborhood and state level.

So I know something about talking with people.

And this is why I get bothered when Church of the Churchless comments flow into my Outlook inbox that have a tone which wouldn't be tolerated if expressed in my living room (being the creator of this blog, TypePad emails me every comment).

Don't get me wrong. I'm not into censorship. Or keeping anybody from using whatever language they want, profane or otherwise. Fuck, sometimes no other word will do but an obscenity.

It's just that I consider myself the host of a discussion group which happens to meet in cyberspace, rather than a physical space. Like my living room.

If some people were sitting around in my house, conversing with each other, and one person started calling another an idiot who should shut up and go home, I'd feel the need to restore harmony. "Hey, that isn't appropriate. You can disagree without making personal attacks."

I usually don't do this on my blogs for a couple of reasons. One, people can stop reading anything they don't like, whereas you can't not hear whatever is said in a living room. Two, the medium of expression is part of the message being conveyed.

Thus how someone talks, in speech or writing, can communicate as much as what they're saying. So if someone claims to have knowledge into what life, spirituality, religion, and/or the cosmos is all about, how they share their insights is part and parcel of what they supposedly know.

To take a fundamentalist example, if a Christian says that he believes in a God of love and proceeds to vilify gays, abortionists, unbelievers, and sundry other heathens for being the Devil's spawn, I sense that the guy isn't living the faith that he claims to profess.

Realize that I appreciate each and every comment people leave on this blog. I understand the passion people have on subjects that are near and dear to them, because I'm the same way – when a certain button is pressed, I get fired up.

I just wish that when people write something – me included, naturally – we visualize that those we're speaking to are face to face with us. Real people, just like us. With feelings, emotions, egos, failings, blind spots, hang-ups, just like us.

To disagree is divine. But our disagreement should be with what a person is saying, not with him- or herself.

Conversing with a churchless Christian

Periodically I have a pleasant email conversation with Steve, a Christian who rarely goes to church. I like how Steve is willing to consider the blasphemous and ungodly musings posted here.

Interestingly, it was two years ago today that I shared a thoughtful message from Steve in my "Why I'm not a Christian." Since, Steve has been a regular Church of the Churchless visitor.

On New Year's Day he emailed me again. Steve spoke about the lack of change he observes in the content of this blog – both my posts and the comments of other people. I found this intriguing.

Because I both agree and disagree with him.

I expressed my yin and yang reaction to his message in a reply. Which led to Steve…(make a guess) changing.

Cool. I like a guy who walks his own talk. Wish I could be as self-consistent. Anyway, our email conversation follows, mildly edited. My favorite line from Steve: "Maybe the conversation itself is the goal."

Join in, if you like. Has anything you've read here changed your mind about something? Or spurred you to lead your life differently in some way?

(the conversation between Steve and me is fairly lengthy, so I'll make it a continuation to this post)

Conversing is cool

I've been doing a lot of conversing lately. That's cool.

By and large I have a grinch'y attitude toward Christmas – I absolutely hate the Salvation Army guy who plays "Joy to the World" on a loud trumpet in the foyer of a store that I go too frequently.

But I enjoy the social events that blossom this time of year, and the conversations that accompany them. Last night my wife and I hosted our annual Holiday Potluck and White Elephant Gift Exchange.

Aside from being able to get rid of some junk that we wrapped up and foisted onto some guests, I hugely enjoyed talking with old (and new) friends about subjects both profound and inane.

With I chat with Steve, it's often hard to tell the difference between our profundities and our inanities. Our minds work pretty much the same when it comes to spirituality and religion, a decidedly scary proposition for anyone trying to make sense out of what ushers from our mouths.

Even when we're completely clear-minded and sober, like we were last night.

I wish I had a buck for every time we agreed, "What is, is." This is a new (and old) favorite saying for both of us. The plus side of it is how it cuts through so much metaphysical, philosophical, and religious crap. The down side is that we end up sounding like 17 year old skateboarders.

Assuming that's really a down side. More and more, I'm coming to the conclusion that the big question – "What's It All About? – probably is a lot easier to answer than most people, including me, make it out to be.

I liked it when Steve said, "Meditation should be fun." That hit a nerve, because often it isn't for me. I've been meditating every day for almost forty years. It's always something I enjoy, but usually I wouldn't call it fun.

However, it should be. And I want it to be. So that got me thinking about what is fun for me. OK, one activity easily came to mind. But aside from that, what else? And how does it relate to #1?

Boogie boarding popped into my head right away. I've done a lot of it, always in Hawaii (the Pacific ocean off of Oregon is just too damn cold). Like #1, it's an activity that requires you to be both out of control and in control. Which is the source of the fun, as it is for most things.

In boogie boarding, like surfing, the goal is to be carried away by a wave – something a whole lot more powerful than yourself. To do that, you have to be in the right place at the right time. That's where the control comes in.

After that…it's enjoy the ride.

So when Steve said what he did, it struck me that letting go is what I want meditation to be all about. Otherwise it's like boogie boarding without ever catching a wave, or having sex without an orgasm. Not fully satisfying; not really fun.

But meditation isn't different from life. Whatever goes on closed-eyed during my morning meditating should bear a close resemblance to what happens open-eyed the rest of the day. Namely, fun.

Which doesn't mean hilarious ecstatic rolling-in-the-aisles, but a sense of enjoyable lightness. I'm finding that fun is almost always close at hand, but I push it away with various devices – mostly of my own making.

Trying too hard, for example. Adding more to a simple situation than needs to be there. Failing to accept that what is, is, and what isn't, isn't.

This is so simple, it's going to take more explaining. On another day.

For now, I wanted to end with another observation about conversing. Some of this blog's regular commenters have been talking about how the conversations that go on in comments to posts are often more interesting (and fun) that the posts themselves.

I heartily agree. So I've been thinking about how to facilitate these "ad lib" interactions between Church of the Churchless visitors.

I'm leaning toward trying out a new message board approach. This would be an addition to this blog, not a substitute. It'd be a way for people to initiate discussion topics on their own, and have more control over their comments (being able to edit and delete posts, for example).

I'm playing around with a trial version of a Church of the Churchless message board. So far, I'm liking it.

After all, conversing is cool. Whether face to face, or in cyberspace.

Some comments flagged as spam

I just realized that TypePad, which hosts this blog, has been over-zealously filtering some legitimate comments as spam. I just added a comment to a recent post (the subject of most of the rejected comments) explaining the problem.

Amazingly, my own comment about the over-zealous spam filter was rejected as spam! That's what happens when rigid dogma, in this case programming related, overrides common sense.

Hopefully TypePad will get its act together soon. Until then, I'll check regularly to see if any legitimate comments have been flagged as spam and publish them if they have been. Here's what I said in the comment:

Regarding the "censoring" of comments, I didn't have anything to do with this. It was TypePad's fault, the service that hosts this blog, as explained here.

TypePad recently made its spam check more aggressive. Overly so, obviously.

I'd rarely gotten spam comments after requiring the verification check where you have to type in some letters to verify that you aren't a spam "robot."

So it never dawned on me that genuine comments might be getting filtered until I read a notice from TypePad recently.

Anyway, I found eight comments in a "spam" section and published them. I believe most were related to this post -- forgot to check this more closely before moving them to the "active" category.

I apologize, on behalf of TypePad, for any confusion this has caused. Again, it wasn't me censoring the comments.

Invitation to write a churchless “sermon”

Over on the left sidebar you'll find a new "Posts Compendium" section.

I managed to take the assemblage of Church of the Churchless posts that I proudly called my blogistic compendium magisterium and transfer them from Google Page Creator to Typepad—my blog host.

Typepad now has the ability to create web pages in addition to posts, so it seemed preferable to keep the compendium as part of this blog rather than over on Google.

Browsing through my numerous posts, which date back to November 2004, I was reminded of how many words I've written. And also, of how much I enjoy reading other people's churchless thoughts.

It's always a pleasure to base a post on an email message that someone sent to me (after getting permission from him or her, naturally). I like taking a break from "sermonizing" once in a while. I also like to hear voices other than mine speaking on this blog.

So here's an offer (it's always been open, but not stated explicitly): if you've got something churchless to say, write it up and email me.

The possible subjects are as various as those in my compendium. Which cover just about any theme ("reality" is an inclusive rubric).

All I ask is that the writing be interesting, thoughtful, and non-dogmatic. It doesn't have to be a literary masterpiece. Just clear, honest, and straightforward.

[Update: For those would-be posters who are concerned about the visibility of their writing, I should point out a benefit of piggy-backing onto this blog.

By and large, Google is kind to me. My two blogs have been around for quite a few years and they're updated regularly—both Google positives. So at the moment Church of the Churchless posts are near the top of such search subjects as "Radha Soami Satsang Beas," "wu chi," and "best religion."

Of course, if you've lost your ego (unlike me), writing is its own reward, regardless of how many readers you have.]

I can't promise that I'll share everything sent to me as a post. But I can pretty much commit that if a writing isn't used as a post, it'll become a comment to an existing post. Thoughts are a terrible thing to waste.

Speaking of comments, a frequent blog visitor asked me if more comments could be shown in the "Recent Comments" section on the sidebar. Currently Typepad limits the number to ten.

I asked Typepad support if there was any way to show more comments. I pointed out that a single post may get quite a few comments, so it didn't make sense to limit the number of comments shown to ten when ten recent posts also are shown.

The support folks told me that I'd have to switch to a custom CSS layout if I wanted that change. Being HTML and CSS impaired, I don't want to give up the security blanket of the standard blog layout scheme.

But I've strongly urged Typepad to add an option that would allow standard layout users to display more comments. The help desk said my request will be considered.

I told them that feedback and interactivity is the hallmark of blogs. So comments need to be featured as prominently as possible.

I appreciate them a lot. Like I've said before, often they're the best part of a post.

My blogistic compendium magisterium

[Update: The compendium has been moved here. The Google Page Creator site isn't up any more.]

By the authority vested in me, which pretty much reduces down to keeping my annual TypePad blogging fee paid up, I hereby announce the release of a Church of the Churchless compendium magisterium.

I rarely put text in color, but if there's any occasion that demands it, this would be it. For a magisterium relates to the teachings of the Church; it sounds profoundly Latinish; and this blog surely is a church, because it's got the word twice in its name.

My compendium can be found here. It's a Google Page Creator creation. I fashioned it because blog entries, by their very nature, soon fade out of notice (and mind) as new entries push them off the front page and into the archives.

I wanted to list all of my blog posts in one place, partly for my own use. Often I remember writing about some subject and have to use Google to find what I said. Having the post titles all lined up by category on a single page gives me, and others, an alternative way of locating my blogistic rantings.

It wasn't always easy to put a post in a particular category. Some would say that every single one should go under "humor," and I'd find it difficult to argue against that. Nonetheless, I categorized them variously as best I could.

I've been working on the web page for quite a while as time permitted. Making my way through the Church of the Churchless archives, opening each post so I could copy the URL into a link, I was mainly struck by two things.

(1) I've written a lot of stuff. (2) I'm really fortunate to have so many thoughtful people willing to comment on that stuff.

So, thank you. I enjoy writing for the sake of writing. But knowing that someone is reading the writing, and interested enough to say something about what I've said, raises the joy level considerably.

And not only for me. For those who read the posts also. Because often the comments are the best part of a post. I read every one. Often they lead me in a different direction: philosophically, intellectually, emotionally, literarily.

Fairly frequently I noticed that a post had been stimulated by people's comments to a previous post, which spurred additional comments, and so we went.

After looking at all that I've written over the past two and a half years, the thought "Is there anything more to say?" came to mind. My answer: Probably there is.

The end of saying is the end of life. I'm not saying that we have to put everything into words, because a lot of life is unsayable.

However, there's a joy in speaking. To our own self. To others. To the cosmos.

Speakers and listeners go hand in hand. Thanks for holding mine.

I make some new web friends

There are some new friends in my "Links to Explore" category in the left-hand column. In the usual web fashion, I haven't talked with them or seen them, and probably never will.

Yet I feel that we're close, closer in some ways than I am with people who I meet face to face all the time. Pondering deep thoughts about life, spirituality, and the cosmos (plus some not so deep) gives us a lot in common.

The folks over at Religious Forums have brought almost 11,000 members together to discuss all sorts of belief systems. I appreciate their Church of the Churchless welcome, and will return the favor by sharing how Phil described their web site to me.

We are a very diverse forum that welcomes anyone willing to be civil, regardless of their spiritual persuasion or lack thereof.  That seems to make us nearly unique among religion forums on the net.  We are constantly getting new members who have been banned from other forums because they weren't "Christian enough" or "Muslim enough" or "Atheist enough" for the staff of the forum they were banned from. 

Indeed, our staff is itself an eclectic collection: We have conservative Christians, liberal Muslims, three kinds of Pagans, atheists, Buddhists, Native Americans, and folks who have not decided yet what they believe on the staff at religious forums. They all have in common a shared belief that civil discussion between people of different views is enriching and beneficial to everyone involved.

Sounds good. Plus, they just added an Eros Room! Even better.

Over at Café Philos, a fairly new blog billed as "commentaries on living, the arts and sciences written by café frequenting scoundrels," Paul finds a lot not to like in a book by Christian fundamentalist James Dobson. Amen to that. And a post about Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion led me to more thoughts about the book on The Buddhist Blog.

Jim is an Eternal Student and writes about what life is teaching him. In an email he told me that he's a little more God-sympathetic than I am, wanting there to be a personal God. Well, me too. I just have the same questions Jim asks in his summary of himself.

And what about religion? Do I go to church regularly? (No, but if I ever find a community of people like me, I will start going again). Do I believe in God? I wish that I could say "yes, definitely". I WANT there to be a loving God behind it all. I want there to be a kinder and gentler (and more intelligent) life after death. And I believe in the duty to help make this world kinder, gentler and more intelligent. I pray every day. And I do what I can to promote kindness and gentility.

But yes, sometimes I get that scary feeling (similar to looking over a high, steep cliff) that maybe there isn't a God. The best I can say is that this world seems like a place that should have a God behind it. And sometimes I can almost see or hear that God in the truly beautiful and meaningful things that happen during the course of a lifetime. But looking at all the evil and pain and suffering, all the hopeless lives, all the coldness of death, I wonder how a loving God could let things get this bad. What is the point of so much suffering, so many broken souls, so much death? There well may be a reason -- just because I can't figure out special relativity doesn't mean that Einstein was wrong, and just because I can't figure out why the world is the way it is doesn't mean that there isn't a "meta-Einstein" behind it.

True. But my bet is that a personal God isn't at the root of It All. Increasingly I find myself inclined toward the philosophy expressed on A Personal Tao, a site I found on one of the sites that found me.

Like Douglas Hofstadter says in his soon-to-be-released new book, we're strange loops, looping strangely.

Be natural

Got some sort of Mr. Natural theme going on. Recently I ran across David Lane’s right-on musings about the problem with “perfection” when it comes to gurus. Or, anyone else. David says:

"If we say something like the guru is infinite, then if we see something that is finite, something that is limited, then if we subtract that finite aspect from Infinity we end up with something infinitely less.

There isn't apparently degrees of infinity here.

So any thing that appears less than Perfect is going to become a point of contention, whether it is reactions about photos or internet bans or what have you.

The perception of imperfection is what fuels these criticism and sometimes even the most petty offense will loom much larger precisely because it contradicts Beas' notion that the guru must be perfect."

Yes. Again, the same applies to any person. When we match them (or ourselves) against an impossible ideal, something has to be discarded: either the unreasonable standard of perfection or our ability to see things as they naturally are.

To err is human. And very possibly, also divine. We’ve got this idea that the spiritual heights should be pristine, pollution free, clear to the horizon. Yet nature herself is messy. So if the Creator bears any resemblance to the Created, paradise has some dirt under the carpet.

Here’s another take on naturalness from the blog of a West London socialist. I found his post in the course of perusing the links that lead people to the Church of the Churchless. This guy wrote about hearing would-be guru Gangaji talk. A commenter added a link to my own Gangaji-related post.

I enjoyed his well-written honest description of the evening. I too have wondered, “How many Babaji’s are there in India?” He’s got a Mr. Natural philosophy of life:

"It doesn't matter what you do, you will surely die; it doesn't matter what you do, you will be forgotten; it doesn't matter what you think, what you believe, what you crave or crush or kill or desire – it will all be gone. This amazing fleeting reality we experience – this hour we strut and fret upon the stage – it's a mayfly existence. An amazing colour show.

So, my advice to you, should you wish to take advice from someone you've never met, is, first and bloody foremost stop worrying. Stop worrying about life, stop worrying about whether you're good enough, stop worrying whether you're sexy enough or bright enough or cool enough or rich enough or happy enough or old enough or young enough or fit enough or strong enough or tough enough or successful enough – it doesn't matter."

Then today I got an email from Catherine, a Church of the Churchless visitor who always has an interesting perspective on the cosmos. Here’s what she had to say:

"Godlessness--bring it on!

I used to know I could produce a loaf of bread. Producing a human was not something I could do. I surely was the incubator only in the whole birth process.

Birth, however, is completely natural. Phenomenally and spectacularly natural is what we are through millennia of natural adaptation. Us humans find ourselves so amazing that we cannot conceive of the fact that we and all around us have produced ourselves. We attribute it all to something other that we also create out of the finer natural mind.

We rely on other people and books to tell us stories which smother our natural intelligence. No need to praise or pray to something outside ourselves. Graceful effort at knowing and strengthening our natural selves and environment is the best we can do to improve.

What is the best place to be? Priests, Gurus coax us with heaven or Sach Khand (the latter a sort of perpetual bliss ocean! - no thanks). I am guessing that the most heavenly place people can conceive of is a six star hotel in the clouds with all the extras.

Whatever else is promised by Gurus, Gods and Lords, is in fact hoped for by disciples as in many cases, the best that they can conceive of in luxury. In fact, like in the “Blood Diamonds” film, people will go through and cause hell in the hopes of eventually ending up with some peaceful luxury.

The best place to be is in fact the best, most natural self. Giving credibility to something outside of our natural selves is the root cause of all disease."

Nicely said. I’m assuming she’s speaking mainly of mental afflictions. But unnaturalness certainly harms our physical being also. High heels are alluring. However, human heels weren’t evolved to tilt inches into the air.

We usually pay a price for walking down a road that nature didn’t fashion. Like, with podiatrist visits.

Marcel the medium takes on Julia the atheist

Ever eager to help publicize my favorite Hollywood medium, Marcel Cairo, I invite you to peruse his Celebrity News Alert that got emailed to me recently.
Download marcels_celebrity_news_alert.doc

Marcel is engaged in some bloggish back and forth with Julia Sweeney, Saturday Night Live alum, who has morphed into an articulate unbeliever, as I wrote about in “Letting go of God. And Uncle Fred.”

In this post on Sweeney’s blog she exhibits some skepticism toward mediums like Marcel. Well, a bit more than “some.”

You say you believe in the afterlife BECAUSE you are a spiritual medium. What does that mean, exactly? This is what a spiritual medium is to me - a person who takes other people's money by playing on their weaknesses.

Marcel’s response, buried fairly deep in the comments, includes:

What does get under my skin is the aggressive desire by some atheist to dictate their doctrine of truth upon others by trying to eradicate spiritual beliefs and faith in others. It's a bit Draconian.

Well, I don’t think this is what Sweeney and other unbelievers are trying to do. They’re trying to shine some light on blind faith and see if anything is really there. What’s the problem with that?

If the emperor has no clothes, it isn’t possible to eradicate them. They’re already missing. What’s being taken away is the erroneous belief that Emperor Religion is finely dressed. Errors should be corrected. That isn’t Draconian. It’s a gift.

Evolution. Further.

Today I’m getting messages from somewhere or someone about something. Wish I could be more explicit. Maybe you’re better at deciphering messages than I am. Best I can do at explication is the one word title of an email that a friend sent to me: Evolution.

This cartoon was the entire message.

Which reminded me of a Rumi poem that I’d just read in Anne Lamott’s book, Traveling Mercies. The poem is called “Shore and Ground.”

Keep walking, though there’s no place to get to.
Don’t try to see through the distances. That’s not for human beings.
Move within, but don’t move the way fear makes you move.
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened.
Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading.
Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Then for some reason (do I need to know?) I went back and re-read this passage from the gnostic Secret Book of John that was quoted in a book I bought last Sunday, The Gospel of Judas.

The One is
illimitable, since there is nothing before it to limit it,
unfathomable, since there is nothing before it to fathom it,
immeasurable, since there was nothing before it to measure it,
invisible, since nothing has seen it,
eternal, since it exists eternally,
unutterable, since nothing could comprehend it to utter it,
unnamable, since there is nothing before it to give it a name.

The One is the immeasurable light, pure, holy, immaculate.
It is unutterable, and is perfect in incorruptibility.
Not that it is just perfection, or blessedness, or divinity:
it is much greater.

The One is not corporeal and it is not incorporeal.
The One is not large and it is not small
It is impossible to say,
How much is it?
What kind is it?
For no one can understand it.

Ken Kesey, my man, you said so much in one word. Furthur.

Also, Further.

That’s all there is to do. The only direction there is to move. The sole commandment there is to keep.

Evolve. Further.

A British churchless blogger

Check out “Off The Beaten Track,” the blog of a British man who has left the well-trodden path of Christianity and is heading toward the wide-open spaces of spirituality.

It was nice to get an email from Paul, the OTBT’er, who has made the Church of the Churchless his blog of the week. I’m honored. Faithless hands meeting across the sea.

In the Best of Off The Beaten Track section I found “Do Not Believe,” which features some great advice from the Buddha about following your own way.

I also noted via the most recent OTBT post that Paul had taken a quiz intended to show what sort of religion you best fit in with. He and I are on very much the same wavelength, with both of us fitting into the independent “spiritual” category. After taking the quiz I was told:

Your ideals are mostly spiritual, but in an individualistic way. While spirituality is very important in your life, organized religion itself may not be for you. It is best for you to seek these things on your own terms.

Amen to that.

I get mail

It’s always a pleasure to get emails from Church of the Churchless visitors. Especially when they include such marvelous phrases as “love your writings” and “I absolutely love reading it [this blog].”

But there’s a lot else to like in what Elizabeth Wagner and Aaron Buss had to say. So here’s the sound of two voices other than mine that I’m pleased to share.

Both Elizabeth and Aaron referred to my “Become one to know the One” post where I talked about not seeing my name in print. Elizabeth also speaks poetically about mystery.

-------------------------
Here’s Elizabeth’s message:

"re: mystery ( as this person sees it)

The very fact of our conscious existence is mysterious.
That we walk upright with rivers of a red liquid cruising through our bodies circulated by a pump.
Soft fragile organs.
A bony frame holding it all together.
A grey, mushy substance at the top
(not much different from what you can buy in a butcher's shop) governing this strange configuration that can by a thought embrace the universe or feel the tiniest prick of a thorn. This is extraordinarily mysterious.
The how and why do not exist.
We are possibilities
We are all just possibilities.

re: your name not mentioned (Plotinus)

It doesn't matter.
Your writing stands alone
uniquely and superbly written.
Why doesn't it matter? Why does it matter?:
1. Because nothing matters
2. Because everything matters.
3. Because your name is just a combination of letters with no intrinsic meaning
4. Because in true reality you only think you exist
5. Because in a few seconds we shall all be dead
6. Because our egotism is all we have to cling to
7. Because we seek to live forever
8. Because the idea of death is terrifying, horrific
9. Because we are what we are, incomplete.
10. Because of our yearning we are very, very worthy
11. Because we are conscious

Dear Brian:
All part of the absurdity. The JOKER is laughing.
Love your writings.
--Elizabeth Wagner"

-------------------------
And here’s Aaron’s message:

"Have been busy the last couple weeks but finally got caught up on your blog. I absolutely love reading it. I think it's a silly rule that they don't print people's names on the articles. I can't say I've read every other spiritual magazine, but I think most of them do list the writers' names out of courtesy. I wonder what the purpose of this is really. Surely people who spend all that time writing deserve to be recognized for their contribution, and for people who don't know them it wouldn't mean anything anyway!

I suppose there could be a lot of reasons - fear that someone who writes really well will receive too much recognition...and become a competitor? I think that an 'organization' that is humble should certainly have no problem in praising others. It seems kind of contradictory to the precept that one should be humble. Certainly if someone is truly humble they should have no problem in praising others, so long as it is done in the right spirit.

Somehow that and the latest 'I' thing just feels... well, creepy. I am also Jewish and one thing I love about Judaism is that you are always absolutely supposed to credit someone else for their thoughts, work, comments, etc. It's a way of 'sharing the wealth' of a communal and combined knowledge and community experiences.

I guess that's what I have found to be most lacking in RS [Radha Soami]. Not that one shouldn't do what the guru is telling you, but there are really no other voices of the community, and when opinions or writings are allowed, they are forced to remain faceless and nameless. It's not a celebration of all our experiences and insights, but the older I get, feels strangely Karl-Rovian - I start to worry that it's all about spin control and information management.
--Aaron Buss"

Comment housekeeping

A frequent commenter on Church of the Churchless posts asked me to delete his comments, which I’ve done. So the thread of a series of comments now may be a bit difficult to make sense of, since sometimes other people commented on a deleted comment.

I’ve taken the liberty of editing comments that started off with a mention of the commenter’s name, as in “Dear _____” or “______, you said.” I figured that it would be less confusing to leave out the name since the comment being referred to no longer can be read. However, occasionally this left the impression of a comment on a comment floating in commentless air. Oh, well. No big deal.

While on the subject of comments, I love it when someone shares an opinion on this Church of the Churchless blog. I avidly read every comment and email sent to me regardless of whether I agree with what was said. Feedback, whether positive or negative, connects us with others.

I frequently think of a quote attributed to C.S. Lewis in the movie “Shadowlands.” We read to know that we are not alone. Yes, but now the Internet allows us to read—and then write to the person who wrote what we just read. Who then may choose to write to us about our reading of his or her writing. And so on, lessening aloneness.

However, the Internet also can foster separation. People can communicate anonymously, sharing their thoughts with other nameless and faceless recipients. It is easy to forget that a real live person is using a keyboard to type in those ideas, and a real live person is reading them on a computer screen. This can lead to things being said remotely in cyberspace that wouldn’t be said face-to-face in a physical space.

On my other weblog, last month I wrote about the National Spelling Bee, free-associating into an anecdote about seeing William Simon on C-Span. Simon is a conservative who ran for governor of California in 2002. I said:

“Simon was giving some sort of Heritage Foundation talk, judging by the banner hanging behind his podium. He was blathering on, as is his wont, about how the United States is a Christian nation, with 90% of our citizens believing in Jesus. Simon said that religion (Christianity, obviously) should be taught in schools because it is so obviously part of our culture.

A Pakistani audience member rose and told Simon that he couldn’t believe in Christ, but that the Koran contained many references to Jesus and Mary. He wondered what sort of place he had in America, given Simon’s remarks.

It was interesting to see how William Simon changed his tune when faced with a real live non-Christian standing before him, rather than with merely his own abstract political/theological notions. Here he was, having to answer an obviously intelligent, concerned, caring person who didn’t believe how he did.

Simon said that everybody had a right to their own faith or lack of faith, but that 90% of Americans believed in a higher power. A few minutes before it was ‘in Jesus;’ now it was ‘in a higher power.’”

What I could see happening, as Simon had to look into the eyes of the Pakistani and speak to him directly, was a softening of his previous harshness toward non-Christians. I’m not saying that Simon had changed his opinions at all, but the manner in which he expressed them became more respectful. Speaking person to person is different than speaking to a featureless crowd.

When I write something that is going to appear on the Internet, I try to visualize my intended readership sitting right in front of me, whether this be a single person or—in my grandiosity—all of humanity.

If I feel strongly about a subject it’s all too easy to forget that other people hold a differing opinion that seems equally valid to them. Visualizing an audience comprised of both agreers and disagreers helps to remind me that whatever I wouldn’t say to someone face to face, I shouldn’t broadcast in cyberspace (even though I surely do this at times).

“Speak unto others as you would have others speak unto you.” That sums it up pretty well for me. Almost always Church of the Churchless commenters are in tune with this adage. Passion doesn’t preclude courtesy. Speaking strongly isn’t at odds with speaking respectfully.

If you want to see an example of truly unbridled, no holds barred, hit-em-where-it-hurts cyberdebating, take a look at the many comments on my HinesSight post about the most beautiful woman in the world. That’s a subject that stirs real passion.

Truth

Here's a nice quotation from Andre Gide that I saw on pdxleft:

Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it.

Those who are certain they know what is true almost certainly are mistaken.