PeaceBang

Mind-Body Connection

I have always been leery of the idea, especially perpetuated through spiritual systems like “A Course on Miracles,” that we somehow earn our illnesses by holding onto toxic emotions like anger and guilt and regret.

I resent that notion because it takes a perfectly reasonable proposition, i.e., we are a holistic mechanism, and reduces the complexity of this reality to a smug, New Age motto which goes roughly like this: “If you think the right thoughts, you’ll be physically healthy.”

The assumption here is that (a) it’s even possible to think all the right thoughts, all the time and (b) that it is a sign of advanced spiritual maturity to do so.

I am a Jungian, and respect the deep powers of the unconscious. To try to think all the right thoughts is, in my opinion, nothing but a grand exercise in egotism and control. People who try to think all the right thoughts all the time scare me. By willing themselves to jump immediately from, say, anger or jealousy or fear right to acceptance or compassion, they are not honoring their humanity but controlling it. They are not enlightened. They are tight-clenched control freaks.

Even the greatest teachers of peace and compassion never counsel such discipline. They say, rather (and it’s a fine distinction), that we should observe our humanity with compassion, meditate in order to clear our minds of its constant and grievous chatter, and that we should not react out of a base survival instinct but out of our compassionate nature. In other words, we don’t eradicate neurotic, typically human reactions but gain the maturity to observe and respect their origins, and to allow a higher, subsequent understanding to inform our actions and responses.

I am speaking mostly from my small store of knowledge of Buddhism here, but it seems to me that Jesus had some pretty snappy, judgmental first responses to people, too, but then inevitably put out his hands for the healing and blessing that was requested. He was far from being the ethereal bliss-ninny he is often depicted as being. When he said, “Your faith has made you well,” he was not rewarding “thinking the right thoughts,” but, in fact, overcoming the prevalent attitude toward disease in ancient times, which was that affliction is caused by sin as a punishment from God. To me, “your faith has made you well” is a congratulations similar to the one delivered in the beatitudes: “Blessed are those who, despite the ignorant teachings of their culture, know themselves to be deserving of healing and will seek it.”

As far as sick thoughts and sick bodies go, it strikes me as appallingly unfair to hold cancer patients (as one example) responsible for their condition. While it may be that a lifetime of resentment and rage and keeping poisonous secrets damage the body’s strength and immunity, to fail to factor in environmental toxins and genetic predisposition to such diseases is beyond irresponsible, it is hateful.

That said, I have been dealing with a very painful out-of-wack lower back for a few days now and while I know that the obvious factor is the overloading of my weights two weeks ago (my trainer accidentally loaded an extra 65 lbs. on the lower back circuit weight), I also resonate with an idea I think Wally Nut suggested, which is that lower back problems might flare up when we don’t feel supported.

Sure there are other factors: bad muscle tone and overweightness, too many hours sitting at the computer, flinging around of 20-lb. kitty litter canisters, hefting full laundry baskets up the stairs in bad form, and having a 1.5 hour work-out without stretching or warming up first. But the timing of such a thing is unmistakably emotionally-connected, too.

As a result, I’m not at all trying to think the right thoughts, but to move slowly through the days as actively as possible, seeking support where I need it, assuming I’ll be perfectly fine in a matter of days, and above all, holding myself and my creaky self with compassion rather than blame.

Satan Jeans

Can you imagine the response of prominent Christian church leaders to this if these jeans were available in the U.S.?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051230/ap_on_re_eu/sweden_devil_s_denim

I heart Sweden.

(thanks to Mikey H. for the link)

Just a Cheap Laugh

http://www.americanangst.com/dingfriesaredone2.html

"Wilie Wonka" Review

I just saw the last hour of the re-make of “Willie Wonka” and I’m amazed at how atrocious it is. Even the Danny Elfman music is either stupid or uninspired, and I love Danny Elfman!

In my opinion, this is the biggest Hollywood failure in a long time, and Johnny Depp’s performance is as bad as any I’ve ever seen. It’s amazing he still has a career. I mean, I love the guy and I love his gutsy choices, but his performance is just obnoxious, inconsistent and pointlessly eccentric. His face never ceases to be beautiful to watch, but all of his line readings seem to be designed as a private joke between himself and his director.

The device of using one digitally multiplied Oompa Loompa to represent minions is more insulting than director Tim Burton intended. Perhaps if he had not chosen an Indian actor to play the obsequious, ubiquitous little servants, I would have been less uncomfortable. As it is, though, with the strong British presence (Charlie Bucket and his family, the imperious Veruca Salt, the unseen narrator, Willie Wonka’s father), I couldn’t help but see the Oompa Loompa as a symbol of colonization and slavery. I hated the stupid Bollywood dance numbers, which are sure to date the movie in a way that I’m sure Tim Burton will regret in very short order. One of the saddest things about this film, in fact, is how much of it is so squarely located in the early 21st century, especially the jarringly “hip” expressions used by Wonka’s character. Contrast that with the timeless appeal of the original, which is going to be just as fresh for my nephews as it was for me, despite the lack of CGI effects.

This film seems to represent everything wrong with our society today: unnecessarily over-technologized, soulless, jejeune, and substituting treacly sentimentalism for warmth and whining self-indulgence for undertanding. The character of Willie Wonka — so wonderfully and charismatically incarnated by Gene Wilder in the original — has gone from a wise madman with an industry and personal legacy to protect, to a spaced-out wackjob who just needs his daddy’s love in order to keep making great candy. I couldn’t have been left colder by Depp’s choices.

It’s the perfect film for the Bush era: the tale of a son whose abusive father doesn’t approve of him — so he leaves home in a huff of rebellious rejection, builds an empire (apparently by the servitude of an oppressed underclass) and eventually lets bratty children destroy themselves under his watch, all tranq’d out on sugar, repressed hostility and ego. Note the difference between the line of dialogue in the original:”I was waiting for a child I could trust” and in the re-make: “I was looking for the least rotten child.” Times sure have changed since 1970.

I know you’ll think I’m over-analyzing but you have to understand that my lower back is in agony and that’s what happens.

King Kong Question

KING KONG
Originally uploaded by Peacebang.

Can someone explain to me why a movie about two men falling in love arouses such a firestorm of media, yet no one seems to think that the love story between a woman and a huge ape in “King Kong” is all that weird?

And can anyone explain the meaning of the whole King Kong thing to me? I mean, the love story part? Before I waste nine bucks and 3 hours of my time?

Magazine Brain

Not to distract you all from the fine conversation we’re having in the comments section of the previous post, but I have a confession to make:

I’m hooked on magazines.

I noticed this year that, aside from working out, the most effective anti-anxiety drug for me is the consumption of magazines. Celebrity gossip rags. Beauty rags. Shopping rags. Martha Stewart’s Living. Cooking magazines. At three and four bucks a pop, this is an expensive little addiction, so I’ve started subscribing. Trouble is, I can’t stop. I’ve got a subscription to Martha Stewart’s Living. And Williams-Sonoma signed me up for Food & Wine as a gift for making a purchase of over $75. I got Real Simple (because it came with a free gift subscription I gave to my sister-in-law) and then I just signed on for Self (as a reward to myself for working out three times a week since September). And since they were pimping Lucky, the shopping magazine (and a guilty pleasure I hide like porn), I got that too.

Then there’s Entertainment Weekly, which is like heroin on paper. I gotta have it all, and I gotta have it right away. I’ve subscribed for years. Blame Mother of PeaceBang who started me off about five years ago with the comment, “You need to read more garbage and relax.” It was the same sweet reason she used for gifting me with a television when I graduated from Div School.

Magazines help me get out of idea brain and into visual brain. They help me get through 30 minutes on the Stairmaster. They’re the adult equivalent of Snack Time in kindergarten. I recycle them by bringing them to the club or the manicurists or the salon. So I shouldn’t feel too guilty, right? Because I read enough other important and deep stuff, right?

“Hello, my name is PeaceBang and I’m a magazine addict.”

Planning Sermons

I took out my sermon “plot” today and see many big holes, otherwise known as April and May. Yikes.

So have at it, PeaceBangers. Weigh in. What kind of sermons would you like to hear preached? And what readings and hymns would go with that sermon? What sermons have you preached lately that were particularly meaningful for you?

I’m preaching on a series on “spiritual stumbling blocks” this winter, including the Fool archetype, jealousy (Cain and Abel, among others) and the problem of not being judgmental enough (ie, discerning).

I want to preach two sermons on on madness, enchantment, religion and psychology (using scenes from “Equus”, and the young adult novel “Is That You, Miss Blue?”). And the Mother’s Day’s sermon may take a look at mothers in prison, a growing phenomenon in our country today.
I will preach about Tookie Williams and the death penalty, and the power of faithful outrage and indignation for Martin Luther King Sunday.

I’m sure that the trip to Spain will inform some nascent sermon ideas on art as an unintentional form of social protest (”Guernica”) and on heaven and hell (”The Garden of Earthly Delights”). I’d like to learn more about the brief era in Spain when Christians, Jews and Muslims co-existed peacefully together, as I’m sure there’s a sermon in there.

Waitstill and Martha Sharp, Righteous Among the Nations at Yad Vashem, will no doubt be the subject of our Flower Communion Sunday, which I will try to coordinate with Yom Hashoah.

And the rest is… grace, the Holy Spirit and the Muse.

Ministers as Public Theologians

I’m flattered that my Boy In the Bands has referenced me twice in the past two days:
http://www.universalistchurch.net/boyinthebands/

His movie reviews are fun, but I’d like to call your attention to his response to a conversation we’re having in the comments section over at Philocrites.

In the original conversation, Philocrites posted about the Commission on Appraisal’s study of theological unity within Unitarian Universalism, which led to a wider discussion of who might be able to, or called to, or empowered to, articulate such a unity. Should it be the staff at 25 Beacon Street leading the charge? The seminaries? Currently active ministers? Laymen and women?
And who finances such an effort? I know from personal experience that a $60K debt from my M.Div. leaves a Ph.D or Th.D impossible to pursue, unless I manage to hook some really rich guy who wants to support me and pay back the U.S. Dept. of Education while I study.

I’m not even sure I’d be able to quit the parish even if that happened — I love it too much. And shouldn’t a theologian be firmly located within the community of faith? IMHO, we don’t need more academic theologians. We need living theology, worked out and tested against the realities of the church.

So you all know what I’m doing: I’m going at snail’s pace for a D.Min., a much lighter-weight degree that will be earned in painful inches over late nights and early mornings between other ministerial duties. I hope to be able to make some small contribution to a richer Unitarian Universalist life through my doctoral project, but I certainly don’t expect to add anything original or brilliant to the theological conversation.

In the comment section over at Philocrites, Fausto snottily charges that although our current crop of ministers are “wonderful and compassionate people,” (talk about damning praise!) he doubts that our theological talent is wide or deep. From the sound of it, we’re good at holding hands in the hospital and going to rallies, but our preaching is theologically vapid.

I had a few things to say about that, which you can read here:

http://www.philocrites.com/archives/002426.html#comments

But really. Not only is this assessment bone-headed because of its broad and unkind generalization (I immediately wondered how many sermons Fausto could possibly have heard or even read by a great sampling of our ministers), it shows a remarkable lack of acquaintance with the expectations placed on ministers which actively interfere with their ability to act as serious theologians.

I know dozens and dozens of ministers who have so much more theological erudition than is ever revealed in their sermons, or in their conversation. Whether Unitarian Universalist or other, I can say for sure that the ministers of my acquaintance barely dare reveal how much they know, how much they understand, how deeply they resonate with particular theological concepts, how hard they’ve thought about it, how much they think about it, and where they specifically locate themselves within their various traditions. Again and again, ministers find that to do so opens them to risks of accusation that they are elitist, that they are just showing off their “book larnin’,” and that all this deep thinking is of no use to the everyday arts of ministry. So most ministers I know find two or three laymen or women they know also treasure theological rumination and go deeply into such exploration with them or with colleagues, while otherwise hiding their theological lights under the bushel of professional survival.

I doubt that this is true for rabbis, which may be exactly why Judaism manages to survive despite the world’s ardent efforts to violently eradicate it, and Jews themselves.

Brokeback Mountain

Ennis and Jack
Originally uploaded by Peacebang.

I saw Ang Lee’s beautiful picture, “Brokeback Mountain” tonight.

Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal play Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist, two cowboys who meet working for a sheep rancher in 1963 and fall in love. What begins as easy companionship and unspoken attraction leads to a consummation that is infused with as much mutual accusation, anger and violence as it is lust. It is as honest a sex scene as you’ll ever see, and I was amazed that there was not one snicker in the movie house throughout.

Aside from the marvelous acting and the gorgeous scenery (and SHEEP! lots of SHEEP!), the story is just a simple, quietly harrowing gem.
Above all, it struck me that this is a story about everyone’s life that you know, not just about these two characters. To me, Jack and Ennis’s secret suffering, the pain they inflicted on themselves and their families, and the poverty of spirit they endured because of their predicament, all spoke of the ordinary ways men and women make sacrifices with terrible consequences to their entire lives. It spoke of the ways we don’t see those consequences unfolding until its too late, and too many years have passed.

So as tragic as this film was, its briliance, for me, was its ability to transcend the “tormented gay love story” genre and to speak to the human condition. I credit director Ang Lee for telling the story in such a way that I was able not only to grieve for Ennis and Jack, but for all the characters, and by extension, all of us.

I came away from “Brokeback Mountain” with fresh appreciation for my denomination’s work for gay rights and marriage equality. It is a totally unpolitical movie that nevertheless dramatically illustrates the truth that when people are not permitted to love freely, the subsequent suffering extends into families and communities.

Look for an Oscar nom for Heath Ledger, who gives an absolutely amazing performance. I would count Ennis Del Mar among the most real, memorable and loveable characters I have ever met on film.

PeaceBang Turns One Today, Dec. 26th!

I had no idea what a blog was until Rebecca told me about hers, which she began on Blogspot.com as a way of keeping friends in touch with her baby (then known as Baby Sparkle, as she wasn’t yet born).

We were out for ice cream following dinner, and as pal Steve and I were waiting in line I said to the cashier, “He’s paying.” Steve, ever swift on the uptake, said, “PeaceBang!” I repeated, as to a dunce, “HE’S PAYING,” and he repeated, ever more cheerily, “PEACEBANG!”

“WHAT are you talking about?” I asked him. “I thought that’s what you were saying!” he responded. I said, “No, you big blonde fool! You. are. paying. He’s Paying. Get it? Get out your wallet. And what’s PeaceBang, anyway?” “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought it was some kind of toast, like you would clink your glasses together and say ‘PeaceBang!’”

We both had a huge laugh, I got a free ice cream cone and a great name for my blog, and Rebecca got a great new baby, so everyone made out very well in the end.

Thanks for reading, PeaceBangers.