How do you prove ... that you are anything?

Last Sunday's New York Times magazine had a feature story on the plight of young Israelis, many of whom were born in America and some of whom were converts to Judaism, wanting to get married in Israel and being forced to prove they were actually Jewish to the satisfaction of the religious authorities in charge of issuing the requisite legal documents. In Israel, marriage is solely the provenance of the religious. There is no comparable state alternative that is available in America, so this issue becomes a big deal.

That sparked a train of thoughts in my head. How successful would I be, would any of us be, if we had to prove our religious bona fides?

When Vicki and I came to Georgia, we had to present various proofs before we were allowed to get a Georgia driver's license. For example, we had to prove American citizenship. This was a first for us, since the last time we moved intra-state was in 1997 when we went to Wichita, Kansas. Now, I guess in response to various Department of Homeland Security rules or concerns about illegal immigratioon, the state of Georgia asks for more definitive proof; luckily, we had passports. Then, we had to show that we had established residence in Georgia. This was a little more tricky, since Demorest uses Post Office boxes, and we had to verify a physical location as our residence.

This process was frustrating, but only because we were unaware of all of the rules and regulations before we went to the DMV. We have had to prove our identity before for various governmental entities. We have always found that one set of papers from a recognized authority could be obtained to satisy the requirements for another level of authority.

But, what do I have that proves that I am a particular religion? Unlike countries such as Egypt that stamps a religious designation on identity papers, America leaves that whole question to the individual. So, could I prove that I am a Christian; could I prove that I am a Congregationalist; could I prove that I used to be a Baptist? And, what would it mean for me to be able to prove any of that?

Once again, charging ahead to generate thought and provoke comment, I ask of you who will read this: Whatever you are religiously speaking, could you prove it? And, what would it mean if you could prove whatever you are? Looking forward to responses.

There Is No Me Without You

This is the title of a book written by Melissa Fay Greene that tells the story of Haregewoin Teferra, an Ethiopian widow who found herself in the position of being asked initially to help take of one child who was orphaned because of AIDS and ultimately cared for scores. Ms Teferra's story is the story of one person who found herself in the position to make a difference, even with the odds stacked against her, and did.

The author also uses this intimate portrait to tell the tragic story of a continent ravaged by disease. All of us now should be aware of the millions in Africa who have died from AIDS, and who may still die, and of the many, many millions of children who were left without parents or grandparents or other family because of the disease.

In the story that the author weaves is the inescapable point of how the Western powers - America, Germany, Britain, France - and the pharmaceutical companies in these countries were more concerned with protecting profits for the drug companies than in making medicines available to the poor in Africa who were in need. Greene discusses many of the excuses that were offered for why the drugs were not used on a widespread basis and dismisses them as just that - excuses - with no real basis in fact. That deliberate choice to sacrifice a generation of people so drug companies could sell medicines - most of which were developed in government laboratories by government paid research scientists funded by the citizens of the country - at the highest possible prices is barbaric and immoral.

This, to me, is an issue where people of faith ought to be involved. We religious types talk a lot about acting as God's people and making certain our country makes decisions based on God's principles. It seems that I remember reading something about justice, mercy, and loving kindness in the Biblical text. Are these just words or should we act, and encourage our elected officials to act, in ways that would truly bring justice and mercy to all in need?

The title of this book, which was loaned to the Chittum family by our good friend, Piedmont colleague, and member of Covenant Church, Barbara Steinhaus, is a reference to a song that was popular in Ethiopia. As Greene writes in reference to the tune, "A child cannot live without a mother or father. A mother or father cannot live without the child." There is no me without you. I am defined by those with whom I am in relationship. I am diminished when there is no you. May we act to preserve that.

Reflection on Faith

At the core of the religious journey is a sense of faith. Unfortunately, too often, folks seem to reduce their understanding of faith to some mishmash of long ago learned words that have little meaning to them and no impact upon them. That reductionism is detrimental to spiritual health.

At the end of February, when Vicki and I were in Athens for the first annual Piedmont Conference on Religion and the Liberal Arts, we went to the local Borders bookstore. While there, I came across a new book by Brad Hirschfield entitled, You Don’t Have To Be Wrong For Me To Be Right. From his title, you can tell that Hirschfield speaks against the current intolerance he sees in religion.

I, of course, did not have time to read the entire book, but a quote on the nature of faith early in the book caught my eye. Hirschfield wrote, "When faith simplifies things that need to remain complex, instead of giving us strength to live with complexity, when it gives answers where none exists, instead of helping us appreciate the sacredness of living with questions, when it offers certainty when there needs to be doubt and when it tells us that we have arrived when we should still be searching – then there is a problem with that faith." (page 9)

His description of an "appropriate" faith certainly seems to go against the dominant trend of the understanding of faith in many American churches. Most folks I have met want a "simple to express" faith and an "I have all the answers" faith. For them, a faith as described by Hirschfield is no faith at all.

When I was a young person, I was nurtured in a Southern Baptist church. The good people of the Fort Sanders Baptist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee taught me Bible stories during Sunday School and Training Union classes. They invested themselves in my life and showed me love so that I could begin to catch a glimpse of God's love. The faith that grew inside me was a simple one - one that could be grasped by a 6 year old. I embraced that faith and allowed it to embrace me.

Yet, this faith was based on a "zero sum" understanding of truth. By that I mean, I was taught that my group had the truth, and, if some group who taught something differently from us was also acknowledged as having truth, then, somehow our truth was diminished. As a Baptist, I was taught to be quite skeptical, dismissive even, of every other religious group's teaching, including other Christian churches. The old joke about Baptists thinking they will be the only ones in heaven is more accurate than joking.

As I journeyed in my faith pilgrimage, I began to ask questions of the scripture and of my teachers and ministers that were not considered "proper to ask." I have been chided for engaging in "foolish disputations" more than once. But, I could not help myself. I wanted to know more, and the answers I had been given were not sufficient to deal with my questions.

So, my faith, especially since seminary days, has been one of complexity and questions and on-going pilgrimage. Paul Tillich, in his book Dynamics of Faith, wrote "Faith is certain in so far as it is an experience of the holy. But faith is uncertain in so far as the infinite to which it is related is received by a finite being." I recognize my finiteness as I struggle in faith to comprehend the infinite.

I would suppose that some of the migration from one religious denomination to another taking place in America (see the earlier post on the Pew Center American Religious Survey) might reflect people's search for an expression of faith in church that goes beyond the simple.