Religious wolf in "voice of reason" sheep's clothing?

According to a New York Times story today, written by Laura Beil, Texas is shaping up to be the new battleground between those who acknowledge the scientific legitimacy and educational necessity of teaching evolution in schools and those who oppose it.

The issue in Texas, though, is a subtle one. No longer are people who are anti-evolution demanding that the words "creator," "creationism," or "intelligent design" be included in state science standards. Now, they want schools to teach the "strengths and weaknesses" of evolution. It does not have the high drama of the classic movie, Inherit The Wind, but this tactic could turn out to be an effective tool of the anti-evolution movement.

What could be wrong with doing that, you may ask? Isn't that the right and fair thing to do? Like everything else, it depends on what things are defined as "weaknesses" and how that material is presented.

According to the article, "The benign-sounding phrase, some argue, is a reasonable effort at balance. But critics say it is a new strategy taking shape across the nation to undermine the teaching of evolution, a way for students to hear religious objections under the heading of scientific discourse. Already, legislators in a half-dozen states — Alabama, Florida, Louisiana, Michigan, Missouri and South Carolina — have tried to require that classrooms be open to “views about the scientific strengths and weaknesses of Darwinian theory,” according to a petition from the Discovery Institute, the Seattle-based strategic center of the intelligent design movement. “Very often over the last 10 years, we’ve seen antievolution policies in sheep’s clothing,” said Glenn Branch of the National Center for Science Education, a group based in Oakland, Calif., that is against teaching creationism. The “strengths and weaknesses” language was slipped into the curriculum standards in Texas to appease creationists when the State Board of Education first mandated the teaching of evolution in the late 1980s. It has had little effect because evolution skeptics have not had enough power on the education board to win the argument that textbooks do not adequately cover the weaknesses of evolution."

In Texas, the opponents of evolution are within one vote of capturing a majority on the State School Board, which has the power to mandate a change in how evolution is taught. Dr. McLeroy, the chair of the state board, who does not think that there is any scientific justification for evolution and believes that earth is only several thousand years old, says that the debate is between two systems of science - a creationist one and a naturalist one.

There are problems with that view. First, by definition, a creationist view cannot be science. Science is science because it can be tested and proven right or wrong. Believing in a God-created universe is something that can NOT be tested; it is a matter of faith. Despite the scientific sounding claims proposed by its adherents, creationism is NOT science. Second, the understanding of "a creationist" system of science as it is promoted in the United States by conservative Christians follows one particular understanding of one of the creation stories in the Book of Genesis only. This perspective dismisses all other religious accounts of creation as mythological and not worthy of consideration. It seems to me that this movement ought to hold other religious understandings in the same high regard for consistency sake.

This conflict between science and religion is a long-standing one. For centuries, the church, or some in it, has been quick to condemn scientific advances as heresy, at best. It would be wonderful to think that we had progressed beyond this, but we obviously have not.

God and Karma get blamed for a lot.

Who would have thought it would come to this?

For years, I have been critical of various fundamentalist Christian ministers who have blamed God, or, more politely put, held God accountable, for a number of events from hurricanes and earthquakes to plane crashes and diseases. I have cringed as Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, Fred Phelps, John Hagee, et al. loudly proclaimed that Event X happened because God was sending judgment upon the people of Y - and you can fill in the blanks.

For these ministers, with their theology based on the idea of God's complete sovereignty, that is absolute control, over human beings, human affairs, and the planet where humans reside and their companion piece of God's vengeful wrath being visited upon those who do not measure up to their standards, there is no alternative but to believe that everything, absolutely EVERYTHING, that takes place comes from the hand of God.

But now, instead of God being blamed for something, the idea of Karma is being "blamed" for the recent earthquake in China. That well-known theologian, Sharon Stone, she of Basic Instinct fame, has been quoted as saying that the earthquake came as a result of China's policy on Nepal and its conflict with the Dalai Lama. Now, Sharon Stone has apologized for the remark, but she shows that she buys into the same theological construct as Robertson, Falwell, Phelps, and Hagee. Whatever happens to us is because of some force or deity that is outside this world exerting its power over us and our affairs.

Where is the line we draw separating what God does and what is just a result of being human on Planet Earth? A plane crashes; was this caused by God, allowed by God, or a result of gravitational forces acting on an object? A person gets cancer; was this caused by God, allowed by God, or a result of a cellular pathology that can happen to any human? I have known many people of faith who have wrestled with the conflict between believing that God is intimately and personally involved with us and that God causes everything that happens.

Where do you draw this line? How much do you agonize over this in the middle of the night when something has happened to you or your family?

Not Welcome at Church

In today's on-line Washington Post Religion section are two stories about two people who were told they were not welcome at church.

One of the stories detailed the story of Douglas Kmiec, a staunch Republican and a firm foe of abortion and a veteran of the Reagan Justice Department, who had been denied Communion. His crime? He announced his support for Barack Obama.

If you think back to the 2004 election, you will remember that the Catholic hierarchy announced that John Kerry and other pro-choice politicians would not be allowed to take communion because of their views on abortion. Even during the Pope's recent visit to America, there were some slight tremors of controversy because many of the sanctioned Republican and Democratic politicians, including Rudy Giuliani, were seen taking communion.

The case of Mr. Kmiec is different, however. His doctrinal credentials are impeccable. He was denied communion because his candidate of choice in the 2008 presidential race, Barack Obama, is in favor of abortion rights.

The other situation involves a 13 year old. He is autistic, and his behavior, deemed "out-of-control" by church leaders, led them to tell his mother not to bring him back for communion.

According to the church leadership, their only concern is for the safety of the other parishioners. They allege that the teenager, who is quite large for his age, has hit a child and nearly knocked over elderly churchgoers as he raced from his pew, among other inappropriate behaviors. His mother claims the allegations made by church leadership are overblown and that, their real issue, is his autism.

Here are two separate situations in which a practicing Catholic was kept from taking communion, which is a REALLY serious thing in Catholic theology, by the church.

What do you think about this? Is a church within its rights to deny someone who wants to participate in a church ordinance? If so, what reasons are sufficient for this to happen?

For example, could a Protestant Church keep someone from taking part in the Lord's Supper, which, while important to it, does not have the same meaning as in the Roman Catholic Church, or could it keep a person from being baptized or having a child baptized? Could any church bar a person from being part of worship, from attending church camp, or going to Sunday School? If so, why?

If no church has that kind of right, what might that mean for their ministry or the integrity of their membership? If you were the one being denied, how would you feel?

Difficult questions, these. Unfortunately, these questions might become more common.

Pieces of life

My contributions to this site will be severely curtailed over the next several days. Vicki and I will be leaving for Salt Lake City this weekend, so we are in the last throes of putting the pieces of our lives into boxes.

Moving does things to me - most of them bad. There must be something about cardboard that brings out my cranky, curmudgeon side. I am usually the one of the family who is ready to pitch anything. Vicki never asks my opinion whether to keep something or not; she already knows my answer. In fact, I will frequently give my opinion freely whether I am asked or not. It is just that my opinion is rarely heeded.

Lest I sound too much like the Wicked Witch of Moving, let me defend myself a bit. I am the one who loaded a box of rocks to move from Tennessee to Kansas. They were not my rocks; they belonged to Vicki's parents. The rocks were not labeled; they bore no distinguishing marks; to the best of my knowledge, they were never taken out and looked at. They were just there. These were rocks that had been picked up at various vacation locations for years. Picked up; thrown in a box; never thought of again, until it was time to move.

Now, I can understand keeping one special rock that was picked up on your first date or your honeymoon. That rock would be special. That one would be worth keeping. Having a box full of rocks that all looked alike was not worth it, in my humble opinion, but I lost that argument, among many others.

Yet, there are things that I treasure and am glad to move. I still have the little pencil sharpener that Adam bought for me with his allowance at his elementary school's Christmas store. I still have the tile ash tray that Joshua made me in Cub Scouts. These items are symbols of the relationship that I have with my sons. Those pieces of my life I am glad to take.

Bootleg Preacher

Will Campbell is unknown to many, but ought to be known by all. He is a self-described bootleg preacher. A Baptist, he spent much of his life offending the sensibilities of all Baptists, but especially those of the First Baptist Church type. I had the joy to see him lecture at Mobile College [now the University of Mobile], a conservative institution of higher education in Mobile, Alabama. It was so conservative that the powers that be did not consider me sufficiently orthodox to serve as an adjunct prof.

How did someone like Will Campbell get there? The rebels within the Philosophy and English departments, not the Religion department, conspired together to invite him to campus.

One of his major claims to fame, as far as I am concerned, is the fact that he was the inspiration for Doug Marlette's character, the Reverend Will B. Done, in the KUDZU cartoon strip. Unfortunately, Mr. Marlette was killed in a car accident last year, and KUDZU is no more. Obviously, Will Campbell is known for much more than that, but the KUDZU reference is still a thrill for me.

I mention Will Campbell because I came across an old issue of Christian Century (November 27, 2007) that has an interview with him. One of the Q&A's struck me.

Q: As you look back on your career as a minister, author, and activist, what gives you the greatest sense of satisfaction?
Just trying, you know - just showing up. I was no hero in the civil rights movement, but I was there, and that was something. If anything in our faith were taken literally, it would be so revolutionary that we wouldn't recognize it. And I don't mean just the Christian faith either, but the Jewish faith and the Muslim faith as well. We don't live by our own preachments. If we did, everything would change.

There is a lot to unpack in this, but I want to dwell on just one point. Just trying, just showing up, can be something of great power and influence. None of us is called to be a "superhero," but we are called to try. We are called to show up when folks are denied justice - to give them the support of our presence. We are called to do more than write a check; we are to stand with them as our sisters and brothers (whether we know them or not).

That is what Will Campbell means, I think, about living "by our own preachments." That is the hard part of this life of faith we claim.

Connections

Last Saturday, Vicki and I were in Dallas. I had been invited to officiate at the wedding of Jessica and Jason, two young adults from the Plymouth Congregational Church in Wichita, Kansas where I served as the Senior Minister for 9 years. Despite the day being infernally hot and humid - I could barely read the last part of the ceremony because of the quantity of sweat streaming into my eyes - and despite the fact that I forgot one of the wireless microphones I wore was not really wireless, it was a lovely ceremony, and, even better, it was a wonderful time of seeing good friends who were there for the wedding.

The weekend got me thinking about my relationship with the folks we saw at the wedding. 11 years ago, more or less, I had not even heard of these people, much less met them. But, since 1997, I had shared life with them. I had sat with them in hospital rooms, had celebrated weddings with them, had rejoiced at the births of their children, and had cried with them at the deaths of loved ones. We had worshipped together, eaten together, and laughed together. We talked about everything under the sun -- current events, sports, church life, bad bosses and co-workers, dreams for themselves and their families and their hopes for years to come.

Yet, I had done the same things with others. So, why had we forged such strong bonds with these folks and not with all others? I do not know. Somehow their souls touched mine and my soul touched theirs in some strong, but mysterious, way.

That is the way of human relationships. Who can understand how the bonds of friendship can be formed that are powerful enough to overcome time and distance and remain just as strong as ever? But, aren't we all glad that we humans have this capacity?

Christian Nations?

One of the on-going debates in America is whether this is, or ever has been, a "Christian nation." Regardless of your position on this question, you have to begin with the problem of defining your terms. Namely, you have to ask, "What defines a Christian?" Then, you wrestle with, "What is a 'Christian' nation?" Then, if you can come up with good answers to those, you have to decide how these definitions apply to the country in question.

In the United States, people have approached the topic from many different approaches. There are those who say America is a Christian nation because the majority of the population now claim membership in a Christian church. Then, there are those who say America's Christian identity goes back to the founding group of the country - usually identified as the Pilgrims and Puritans. Others point to the Christian origins of our legal system and its principles. And, then, there are arguments about whether America has lost her "Christian" bearings.

If you have read this blog for a while, you know I have definite ideas about this debate. I shall not recreate all of the previous posts. You will just have to search for yourselves. It is sufficient to say here that I do not think the arguments advanced to conclude that America is a Christian nation have any validity.

With this background, I found a recent article in The Times (of London) [from May 15, 2008] written by Camilla Cavendish considering whether Britain is still a Christian nation quite interesting. Looking only at numbers, the results are not too encouraging. It is predicted that there will be more Muslims than Christians in England in a few years. Others also project that Hindus will outnumber Christians there by mid-century. Currently, only about 6% of the Brits attend Christian worship services regularly. This number reflects a trend that began in the late 19th century when less than a third of the country attended services regularly. [Here again, you have to define what "regularly" is.]

The author of the piece writes: [T]he only point I want to make is that being a Christian country has always been about more than belief in God and Sunday worship. In the 2001 census, seven in ten people described themselves as Christian, to the astonishment of many bishops; 22 per cent claimed to be still going to church at least once a year.

Britain is still a Christian landscape, dotted with spires. It is still a place of Christian ritual, where people go to churches to mark marriages and deaths. It still has some heroic pastors who help people cope through terrible times. These things are part of the fabric, but they are strangely absent from much of the debate about national identity. ...

The hymns that we sang at school, the cadences of Bible stories, are part of my identity. What other identity can I have?

Thus, this British author defines Britain as a Christian nation primarily, if not solely, on the basis of tradition and the familiarity with Biblical stories held in common by most of the people. While that may satisfy her, I doubt very much that the more ardent Christians in America would accept that as being valid.

So, what does it mean for a nation to be "Christian"? Can a country be Christian if most of the people do not claim to be Christian? Or, can it be one if most people are not actively involved in the life of a Christian church? How would a "Christian" nation be different in policies and approaches than a "non-Christian" one?

What do you think?