Losing my religion

The more I think about religion and God the more I question. The more I question, the more I find the answers lacking (if anyone is even willing to try to answer my questions).

Every time I get one of those email forwards or read a Facebook post about Jesus or God or both, I become even more turned off to organized religion. My parents send them to me. Good friends of mine send them to me. Educated people whom I deeply respect. These emails and posts normally come across as self-righteous and holier-than-thou. I always assume the intent is pure, but the message is not what I think the sender hoped it to be.

I am a white American male who grew up going to a Methodist church. My mom taught Sunday School. We went every week. I went to youth group when I got older and went to Young Life in high school. I attended church in college and after. I was even the treasurer for one congregation. So religion was a significant part of my life for a very long time. I know the Bible stories. I know what Christians believe (I even took a course in college called Basic Christian Beliefs).

Since I grew up quite WASPy, unsurprisingly, many of my friends fit that acronym. When I do get one of these emails, it typically comes from this set of people. It's always Christian, usually Protestant, but occasionally Catholic. I've yet to have one of my Jewish or Islamic friends send me an email telling me how beautiful God is, or how I can repent by sending on their email to 10 others to help them be saved, too. But maybe that's because I don't know enough Jews or Muslims. Or maybe it's because I live in America. Or both. Or...

What really gets me is that nearly every time I have tried to have an honest discussion regarding religion, people won't talk with me. They might talk at me. They often get offended or defensive because they think I'm criticizing them or their religion. And then their logic becomes faulty and they result to emotional statements that convey how strong their convictions are, but do nothing to help me better understand why they have those convictions.

Once, when I was in my late 20s, I attended a number of services at an evangelical church. It was a large church, and I was attracted by the number of younger churchgoers. I got to know the "Young Adult Pastor" and went on a ski trip with him and other "young adults". Afterwards, I met this pastor for lunch telling him I had a lot of questions he happily engaged in discussion and did not get defensive or offended. I think a good part of me was hoping to have some great epiphany and find my way back to religion. But, his answers didn't satisfy. His church believed that the Bible was the Word of God and that it had to be accepted in its entirety. This despite the apparent contradictions, especially between the Old and New Testaments. When he explained this to me, I became even more frustrated.

I continue to wander. I don't actively search for discussion much any more. I am trying hard to not become cynical. But what do I do? "Love thy neighbor as thyself." "If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." What beautiful tenets these are. Hold them true and there is no war, there is no murder, there is no hunger, there is no poor. And yet men and women who claim to be "Christian", break these commandments whenever it suits them.

Once upon a time, the President of the United States repeatedly asked God to "Bless America". And then this president sent forth our army to kill Iraqis.

God help us?

Jealousy in LA

First posted: May 21, 2006

I cannot believe it. I am jealous of the Clippers. How this pains me. The Clippers?! The JV team? What happened here?

I walked into Albertson's this morning in SantAna and received a free copy of a long boring novel called the Orange County Register Sunday Edition. (Green comment about the unnecessary clear cutting needed to print said paper withheld.) While I was waiting in line for my coffee at the in-store Starbucks, I noticed a blurb on the sports page that, yes, in fact Virginia, there are Clipper fans in the OC. This doesn't really surprise me because over the course of this past season, the number of "lifelong" Clipper fans has increased faster than the birthrates of LA and Orange counties. (Think about that for the moment.)

Understand, this Laker fan never really gave much thought to the Clippers. It's kind of hard to think about them when they are never on TV, are never in the playoffs, and never win. They have been the joke of the NBA my whole life. (Yes, I am older than the official rebirth of the NBA that commenced in 1979 when Magic and Larry were drafted.) The Clippers were never the Lakers' rivals. That was always the domain of the Celtics. The retirement of Magic pretty much concluded that rivalry and the Lakers have had few true rivalries since except for the Sacramento Queens.

But now, amazingly, the Clippers are in the 7th game of their 2nd round series, on the verge of the Western Conference finals, and the Lakers are home trying to come to terms with their true identity. How did this happen? Is it nature bringing balance to Los Angeles? Or is it an anomaly that will blink out as soon as Donald Sterling realizes that his profit margin for the next 10 years is secure win or lose.

What does it mean if this is not an anomaly? Does it mean the Lakers' new rivals will actually be the Clippers? Frankly, that would be great. Great, as long as it's a true rivalry. None of the 1989 Bay Area cross-team love. Those Giants/A's hats were revolting. No, that is not allowed. You pick a side. The Glamour and Glitz of Showtime or the pathetic Clippers. Who are you gonna love?

This is exciting. This means a new team for me to hate. There's never been a reason to hate the Clippers. A Laker loss to the Clippers in the past inspired disgust at the thought that the Lakers played down to the level of the Clippers long enough to let them pull out the upset win. It was never because the Clippers were the better team. And every Laker win was ho-hum because it was expected. But now, now if the Clippers win, it might actually be because they have a team worthy enough to challenge the Lakers legitimately.

I loved hating the Celtics in the '80s. Yes, it was easy to do. I mean, how hard is it to hate the ugliest team this side of Eastern Germany? And we all know that McHale lived on cheap shots, that Ainge was the world's biggest whiner, that Parish's elbows were filed sharp, that DJ knew all the bad bounces in the Garden floor, and that Bird's true identity was Lex Luthor. But it didn't matter that it was easy; what mattered was that it was fun. It was fun to get Riled up when the Celtics bettered the Lake Show and it made the wins all the more scrumptious and satisfying. To beat the Celtics was an accomplishment because, even though I would never have admitted it, the Celtics were a good team, a worthy opponent to Magic, Kareem, and Co.

I sometimes wonder if I will ever be a part of another rivalry on the level of the '80s era Lakers-Celtics. Realistically, I doubt it. But, the next best thing might just be a Clipper-Laker rivalry. They would never be able to meet in an NBA final, but they meet often enough during the regular season and they could meet in a Western Conference final to allow for a sufficient amount of drama.

How could it be better? Well, this brings me back to the newspaper blurb: the OC. The Angels of Anaheim (who can't claim LA until they move back into at least the county whatever their history and team name origin might be) and the Ducks already serve as acceptable foils to the Dodgers and the Kings (of course that's hockey, and I wouldn't usually waste any space on that "sport" unless it helped me make a point). What we need is for the Clippers to move to the OC and share the Pond with the Ducks. An LA-OC all-out sports rivalry might actually provide for a rivalry to rival the '80s Lakers-Celtics.

And when the Clippers return to their losing ways, it would mean not having to hear any more about the pathetic LA Clippers. Then they would be the OC's problem.

The Power of the Dark Side

First posted: June 15, 2006

Well, it didnt happen on 6-6-06, but it was pretty darn close. What is it? No, its not something from eBay. It is a cell phone. Yes, Darth Vader has won. I own a cell phone.

I didnt want it to happen; Ive enjoyed not having to have one. But my new apartment required it. I moved into a studio apartment beneath this familys house and when they constructed the apartment, they did not install a landline phone since, they thought, everybody has a cell phone these days. So, much to the joy of my girlfriend, I now have a wee little flip phone that plays the intro to Under the Bridge when someone wants to talk with me. (I admit it, having the Red Hot Chili Peppers play for me is pretty cool.)

Why have I resisted a cell phone this long? Because, I have not needed it. So many people have said to me, Oh my gosh, I could not live without my cell phone! This to me is the craziest opinion one could have, whether you take it figuratively or literally. I did very well for 30.5 years without a cell phone. I had a phone at home, one at work, and I actually know how to use a pay phone. And, given that so many others around me had cell phones, whenever I actually felt the need for one, there were several from which to choose.

Frankly, a cell phone is a burden. Its just something else about which to worry. Worry that it will break. Worry that I will lose it. Worry that I will leave it at work. Worry that it will be stolen. Worry that I wont have reception. Worry that the battery will die. Its also one more thing to carry with me. Im not sufficiently secure in my manhood to carry a purse, so that means it goes in my pocket.

In the last year or so, I also got a few kicks from peoples reactions when they discovered that, amazingly, I did not own a cell phone. How do you do it? they would ask, mouth agape. Some figured I was loony, some were impressed, others simply couldnt get a grasp on the notion and walked away confused. What if your car breaks down? Use a call box. What if you need to meet friends at a bar? Plan a meeting point ahead of time. What if I want to call you when youre away from a phone? Wait until I can get to a phone! I dont feel like any kind of innovator. Plenty of people have successfully lived their lives and done everything we do today without cell phones. None of my strategies for existing in our culture without a cell phone are original.

No longer will I get to field such questions. I have been turned to the Dark Side. I have... oops, gotta go... my cell phone is ringing...

The Second Comings...

Oh Kevin McHale and Robert Parish, why do you haunt me so? With the dream NBA Finals featuring the stupenderific Los Angeles Lakers and the despicable Boston Celtics, memories of a gangly McHale and a plodding Parish surface and rear their ugly faces. The McHale clothesline. The Parish grimace. Ugh.

To make sure this dream final becomes a nightmare for me, the Celtics trot out PJ Brown and Kendrick Perkins. Okay, okay, these guys are no McHale and Parish as far as talent, skill, and basketball IQ go, but they do fill that thuggish, villain roll oh so well. And Brown, well, he does resemble McHale and Parish in that unfortunate, necessary other way. Have you seen this guy's forehead?

I guess I should be thankful. It does make watching the games more entertaining when the opposing team features players that boil one's blood. I can boo and deride Brown and Perkins to my heart's content. I can mock their clumsy styles and get fired up after they play Whack-a-Laker in the paint on every shot and every rebound. And I can stand up and cheer when Kobe fakes them out of their socks whipping a pass to Lamar or when Pau flies up and snatches away the rebound.

I can't hate Garnett. I can't hate Pierce. Ray Allen? Okay, yes, I can hate him in a Dennis Johnson sort of way. And Sam Cassell, a player I have always loved to hate, fills the Danny Ainge roll nicely. But it's Perkins and Brown who provide my anger with an outlet. Instead of getting annoyed to a point of dizziness by another blown Odom lay-up or Radmanovic airball, I can holler at Brown for mugging Farmar or I can jeer Perkins for being an oaf. These hooligans allow me to redirect my vitriol from Purple and Gold misfires to the Green Goons.

So bring 'em on Doc. Tell Perkins to foul Pau. Tell Brown to bang Lamar. And maybe if you do, maybe Gasol and Odom will feel the fire and wake up in time and help Kobe and the rest of the Lakers to their 15th NBA Championship.

Truth and somethin' else

This morning, NPR ran a story about MoveOn.org's ad regarding Rudy Giuliani's decision to quit the Iraq Study Group because he was too busy giving speeches. The overarching topic was MoveOn's use of the phrase "Betrayal of trust" and how it has appeared in a couple other ads recently, one targeting General Petraeus and the other aimed at President Bush.

I am actually a MoveOn member. What does that mean? It means a friend forwarded me an email from MoveOn that encouraged people to sign a petition, probably about Iraq or Global Warming. I signed the petition and joined the organization. So I had seen the Giuliani ad before hearing the NPR spot.

One reason I liked MoveOn is that they do a very good job of presenting sources to back up their claims. Whenever they send me an email, they always list several credible sources. These are also available on their web site. Here are the sources for the Giuliani ad: http://pol.moveon.org/giuliani/

What struck me most about the NPR spot was a counter ad against MoveOn charging them with "name-calling." Basically, the ad said that MoveOn was a naughty organization for daring to run a negative ad, and used mud-slinging tactics. What was glaring was what the ad did not say. The counter-ad did not refute the charges levied by MoveOn against Giuliani. The counter-ad did not try to say that MoveOn's claims were false. The counter-ad did not try to give other reasons for Giuliani quitting the Iraq Study Group.

The counter-ads message: don't give the public reasons to doubt Giuliani because it's not nice. Since when do conservatives worry about not being nice?

September 11 is my brother's birthday

I will always remember September 11. It is a day of major significance to me, and has been for quite some time. For 26 years, to be exact. 26 years ago, September 11 was the day my younger brother was born.

At the school where I teach, the high school principal sent out an email to all teachers asking for their input on how we should remember the attacks of September 11 and outlined what we had done in previous years. My question was, why do we want to remember the attacks? Frankly, the attacks were incredibly horrendous and the thoughts and feelings that I experienced on that day are not ones I want to re-live. What purpose does it serve to remember the attacks? If we continue to remember the attacks, then we perpetuate the fear that the terrorists were trying to instill. We are doing exactly what the terrorists want. They want us to be afraid.

I do not want to be afraid.

Certainly, for those who lost friends or family in the attacks, the day has a completely different significance than it does for those like me who did not. I cannot begin to try to understand how much different their horror was compared to mine. Nor do I want to. If someone I knew wanted my help in celebrating the life of someone who was killed that day, I would naturally be there. Just as I would be there for someone who wanted to remember a mother who died from cancer, or a brother killed in a car accident.

So on September 11, I will call my brother to wish him a happy birthday. And I will remember the good times we've had and look forward to the next time. And I will be thankful that I have such a great brother. And that is how I will remember September 11.

I want Franklin Singer to like me

Today, I bought a book. I walked to a store, perused the available titles, and selected a short story collection by Adam Haslett, You Are Not a Stranger Here, primarily due its prominent location on the bookshelf as well as because it was a Pulitzer Prize finalist. It was a used copy, as were all the books at the store, Open, located in Long Beach. And it was 40% off.

I began reading the book on the walk back to my condo. I don't normally do this, but the book had piqued my curiosity and it was a lazy Sunday, a day ripe for doing things such as walking and reading. About halfway home, the protagonist, Mr. Singer, described how he despised the belongings and proclivities of his niece's family in Scottsdale. "They're spoon-fed Ritalin and private schools." This passage gave me pause. I teach at a private school. I instantly found myself defending my choice of employers. And I tried to convince myself that Mr. Singer would listen to my side and come around and agree that, yes, my school is different from other private schools, and he would approve of it and of me. I put my thoughts aside and returned home.

After finishing the story and reflecting, I felt very foolish thinking these things. Franklin Singer would never have begun to listen my side. Even if his contempt for private schools were only developed yesterday, it would nonetheless be ingrained in his persona and any contrary arguments would be baseless and inane. I also realized that Franklin Singer, while a most interesting character, was annoying and pompous and the not type with which I would want to associate. Beyond that, what does any person's approval really mean? Does it make me a better person?

Most of all, Franklin Singer does not exist except in the pages of Adam Haslett. Why? Why do I ask myself if Franklin Singer would approve of my working at a private school when he is fictional? What does this say about me? Insecure? Thirsty for approval from others? Or do I still have issues with teaching in private schools after attending public schools from kindergarten to twelfth grade? Does some part of me still feel this is a less honorable position?