I read a definition of a term

Context
I'm reading A History of the End of the World by Jonathan Kirsch. I'm doing this because I'm thinking about attending a seminar on apocalyptic literature given by Dr. Susan Brayford, a professor emeritus at Centenary College, and she mentioned possibly using this book as a jumping off point.

Anyway, this footnote appears fairly early in the text: "The abbreviation B.C.E. (Before the Common Era) is the equivalent of B.C. (Before Christ), and C.E. (Common Era) is the equivalent of A.D. (Anno Domini, or "In the Year of Our Lord"). The abbreviations B.C.E. and C.E. are used by scholars to avoid the theological implications of B.C. and A.D., and I have used them here for the same reason."

Commentary
I don't care much for this book. I find it astonishingly disrespectful of people (like me) who take the Bible seriously and downright dismissive of the author of the book of Revelation. Usually I believe life is too short to read books I don't like, but I'm continuing with this one for two reasons:

1) It's an Interlibrary Loan. Since the library took extra effort to get it for me, I figure I should give extra effort to getting through it.

2) I am actually learning stuff, like how various apocalyptic prophesies in the Bible compare and contrast with each other.

All the above was to let you know I might be predisposed to snarkiness while reading this book. Here are the two thoughts that crossed my mind when I read the definition of B.C.E.:

1) If you're counting time forward and backward from what historic calendar makers considered to be Jesus's birthdate, calling it something different may avoid the theological implications of that, but the cultural ones are still glaringly obvious: there was some kind of history-changing event 2012 years ago.

2) Does the author really think there's anyone reading his book who won't know what B.C.E. means? This is an historical analysis of the impact of Revelation with lots and lots of references. I don't think people are going to pick it up unless they've at least seen one college classroom or done an equivalent amount of reading. And if any of that study has been in the realm of history, they've seen B.C.E. before.

What did you see today?

I heard a question

Context
At my Quaker meeting today, we discussed this article about the Bible by Kristin Swenson. One of the regular attenders at the meeting has neither a strong interest nor a strong background in the Bible, so she asked what we thought the Bible was for. I said the Bible was for religious instruction. It has pretty good poetry, although it's probably better in the original Greek; reasonable history, especially if you're interested in the various kings of Israel, and some great philosophy. I also said it makes a poor science textbook. Someone at the table said this last would be a radical idea to the Texas Board of Education, because over the past few years, Texas has been embroiled in a debate about how to treat the theory of evolution in science textbooks.


Commentary
I need to start with some housekeeping. The link for Kristin Swenson's article goes to the Deseret News instead of the Shreveport Times, because the latter's archive didn't make it appear in a search. I'm sure they'll rue the day they lost the huge amount of traffic that comes from my blog!

Also, I try to be accurate in the Context portion of the blog, so I reported my comment that the poetry was better in the Greek. Upon further review, I should have said, "in the original language," because very little of the poetry in the Bible was originally written in Greek.

Lastly, I posted the most recent article I could find about the Texas textbook controversy, but if you do a Google search for Texas Board of Education creationism, you'll find all kinds of other goodies.

OK, now the actual commentary. Scientists don't like it when school boards put "all sides of scientific theories" language in textbook standards, because they think it's code for "take potshots at the theory of evolution." It may very well be, but the testimony on integrity (that again!) won't permit me to say so without positive proof.

So I won't deal with that issue. Instead, I'll talk about why the Bible itself, not any creationist-leaning textbook, makes a poor resource for scientific learning. The purpose of science books, and science classes for that matter, is to make observations about the world around us, come up with a plausible explanations for it, and ideally, teach people to do the same.

The Bible is terrible at this. In general, it jumps straight to conclusions without offering any physical evidence for them. I see no "We conclude God created the world in seven days because of this, this, and this" in Genesis; do you? Luckily, assertions about the nature of the physical world are kind of rare in the Bible; it's mostly about setting up a belief system and acting upon it. And to be fair, science textbooks are as bad as religious instruction as the Bible is at science.

Science is tethered to the realm of the possible. This is problematic for religion (at least my religion) in two ways:

1) Faith takes us outside the realm of what's physically possible. The Bible asserts that people can rise from the dead (2 Kings 4:32-37), that men can be thrown into a furnace and come out unharmed(Daniel 3:19-28), and that there will come a time when wolves lie down with lambs (Isaiah 11:6-8), and that's just in the Old Testament. The New Testament really goes berserk. Science can bring awe and wonder, but only faith sets us free from the tyranny of our lives to see new, unimagined possibilities. I recognize the irony of using that word, but whatcha gonna do?

2) Science makes no distinction between the possible and the desirable. Observable phenomena tell us that splitting atoms can cause horrific destruction. Science, in its purest form, has no opinion about whether this is a good or bad thing. Pretty much all religious thought comes down firmly on one side of the issue.

So science and religion have different purposes and places in our lives. Is that really such a radical idea?

What did you hear today?

I saw people protesting

Context
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.

Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.

I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.

Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.

So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.

I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!

I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.

This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.

What did you see today?

I saw a Twitter hashtag

Context
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.

Commentary
More conference inspiration!

I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.

In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.

But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.

What did you see today?

I heard a plea for help

Context
At my Quaker meeting we usually have a program before our meeting for worship. The program today was about handling emotions like anger and sadness while still remaining faithful to the testimony on integrity. During our discussion, one regular attender spoke about someone he knows whose life is in turmoil because she refuses to forgive her father for mistreating her. He asked if we had a suggestion for something to say that wouldn't cause her to turn on him and I said that nothing could ensure the desired response.

Commentary
I hope I wasn't too harsh with my co-religionist. My concern was that he might be seeking a magic bullet here and I wanted to discourage him in that endeavor.

I blame writers. Frequently in works of fiction on page, stage and screen, someone says something that ends all argument and sets everyone listening on the right track (I'm particularly annoyed when this happens to be the loudest voice on a TV show, but I digress). So we might come to believe that there are words that will have this effect in real life as well, but in my experience they are far fewer and further between.

I'm not saying it's a bad idea to be like a writer in choosing words carefully. I rehearse stuff all the time. In fact, this is about the third different narrative style I had considered for today's blog entry. If you would think one of the other two might have been better, oh well!

It's another aspect of fiction writing that may be getting in the way, though. Writers not only get to choose what their characters say, they get to choose how other characters react to it. I think the question posited in this Salon interview is nonsensical: "Do you think novelists are responsible for what their characters think?" If we're not responsible for the products of our own minds, we're in serious trouble!

In real life though, we cannot possibly control how people respond to us. I've been known to use the phrase "appropriate response," but realistically the question has to be, "appropriate according to what criteria?" I find I can't even predict my own response to stimuli with any regularity; a comment I would just let slide under some circumstances becomes an unpardonable transgression under others.

So am I saying my friend from the meeting should just avoid talking to this woman about forgiveness, since he can't predict her reaction? No. I just think he should pay attention to another aspect of real life that is different than fiction: the length of it. I think one of the reasons fiction writers use these "magic bullet" lines is because they need to wrap up a plot in a finite amount of time. We are under no such constraints. We can talk to a person about forgiveness and even if they yell at us, even if they add us to their list of unforgivens, we still may have an impact long down the road.

I believe this is why the Bible calls us to faithfulness, not necessarily effectiveness. Or at least, not effectiveness that we can easily measure. Time and again in God's Word, prophets are praised for bringing a message, whether it appears to be working or not. And some of the effect isn't known even during that prophet's lifetime. It comes when I read the message and learn something. Talk about an unanticipated response!

What did you hear today?

I saw a passage in a Stephen King book

Context
Stephen King is my second favorite author, after C.S. Lewis. Because I've read many of his books several times, sometimes I just go back and read passages again, revisiting certain concepts rather than taking in the whole work. I did this today with Pet Sematary, and found a passage describing the horror (well, it is Stephen King, right?) of leaving a young child alone in the house with a dying relative.

Commentary
This is my 100th blog entry! Hope it's worth it.

The Stand is my favorite Stephen King novel; in fact I've already blogged about here and here. But Pet Sematary is hands-down the scariest Stephen King work I've read, right up there with The Silence of the Lambs in terms of "don't read it before you go to bed" creepiness.

The passage about the little girl left alone while someone passes away is horrifying not in a scary way, but more in the "What were these people thinking?" sense the protagonist muses to himself for our benefit. One of the qualities of childhood should be the nurturing presence of adults when dealing with the harsh realities of life.

In the New Revised Standard Version of the New Testament, people are referred to as the "children of God" 14 times (yes, I have a concordance), mostly in this passage in Romans. By contrast, there are only ten reference to the "people of God" and those are all in the Old Testament, where the "children of God" never make an appearance.

What's going on here? Did we suddenly become less mature with the coming of Christ? Did we come to realize that we needed more protection and nurturing than originally thought? Or is it just a translation quirk between Hebrew and Greek? I don't know; I just know I'm more likely to think of myself as a child of God than a woman of God.

If we're children now, do we ever grow up? Maybe. In fact, that may be what happens in heaven. I've been thinking about heaven lately, inspired by a fellow Friend in my meeting. She has little patience with mainstream Christianity, and I believe some of that is because of what she considers the ridiculous imagery associated with it. So she'll ask questions such as, "Do you really believe God is an old man with a white robe?" or "What is heaven like, really?", possibly referring to the "sitting on a cloud all day playing the harp" idea.

My current view of heaven (could change any minute, my ideas on matters like these tend to be capricious to put it charitably) thinks of it as where we get to become the adult children of God. And so our views of heaven now are often similar to the ways children think about growing up. There are plenty of "I'll get to stay up as late as I want and eat candy bars all day!" visions. The harp-playing idea may come from what children often see of adult behavior in church, mindlessly mouthing praises to God and not really doing anything useful. There are also people who are horrified by the prospect of heaven: "If I can't have my whiskey and tobacco, I'm not going!" These are like children who cannot conceive of being sexually mature: "I'm going to like boys? EWWWW!"

The point is, as children we really have no idea what being a grown up is like. We get glimpses, we have hope and fears, but the reality is that not only do our circumstances change as we mature, we do as well. We'll probably even see different things.

What did you see today?