Ralph Waite

Ralph Waite, who played the dad on The Waltons, has passed on.  I was also interested to learn that he had roles on Days of Our Lives (as a priest) and Bones (as Booth’s grandfather).  And, of course, he was the Mark Harmon-character’s father on NCIS!

I have long been interested in him from a political and a religious standpoint.

Politically, my understanding is that he was very left-wing.  I was one time watching a documentary, and it was saying that Ralph Waite stood with Ed Asner in publicly opposing President Ronald Reagan’s policies on El Salvador.  The documentary was presenting this as a very controversial stand on Ed Asner’s part, one that did not help Ed Asner very much.  But Ralph Waite was willing to make that stand alongside him!  Many actors and actresses are liberal, but how many of them are serious enough about their liberal beliefs to make a bold stand for them when doing so could place them under attack?  Ralph Waite was serious about his beliefs.

Waite also ran for Congress three times as a Democrat, and, in 1998, he was defeated by Mary Bono, the wife of Sonny Bono.

I was one time talking with a Republican lady, and she was disappointed to learn that Ralph Waite was left-wing, since she loved his character on The Waltons.  My response to her was that his character on The Waltons was rather left-wing, too, in that he supported Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal, whereas it was Grandma Walton who was the right-wing Republican.  Granted, John Walton, Sr. was probably not as left-wing as Ralph Waite was, but he still tended to lean in the Democratic direction.

Religiously, Ralph Waite attended Yale Divinity School and was a minister and religious editor prior to his acting career.  Later in his life, he came back to prioritizing faith, and he taught Sunday school at a progressive Christian church.  See here to hear him talk about his faith journey.  On The Waltons, his character was not particularly religious.  He believed in God, on some level, but he did not regularly go to church, to the annoyance of his devout wife, Olivia.  One reason that I loved The Waltons was on account of its exploration of religious issues.  People like to call it a Christian show that had Christian values, but I always found its exploration of religion to be more open-minded and honest than that.

R.I.P., Ralph Waite.

On Listening to Christian Radio

In our church bulletin this morning, there was a flyer for a Christian radio station.  I used to listen to Christian radio a lot.  In the days when I did not have a television, it was what I would do at night or on days when I was home from school, while I was doing my homework.  To be honest, I don't have pleasant memories of listening to Christian radio.  I wouldn't say that my memories are unpleasant, but they're not pleasant, either! 

One reason that I listened to Christian radio was to learn more about the Bible.  But I don't feel that I learned a great deal about the Bible when I was listening to Christian radio.  Rather, I was listening to predictable evangelical spiels that I had heard repeatedly, some of them pretty kooky.

Another reason that I listened to Christian radio was to get inspiration.  The problem here is that Christian radio can be a mix.  Granted, one can listen to an affirming "God loves you" sort of message, or a message that offers practical insights on how to live life.  But one can also hear fear-mongering, legalistic messages.  In many cases, the same preacher can deliver both kinds of messages.  It's like he's using a carrot and a stick, or playing both good cop and bad cop.

The thing is, as I think back to the television shows that I would watch once I got television and watched it while doing my homework, I have largely positive memories.  I would watch The West Wing, Star Trek Voyager, Touched by an Angel, Little House on the Prairie, The Waltons, and the list goes on.  I see those times as good times.

But, come to think of it, I have some good memories about Christian radio.  It's not so much on account of the preaching on it, though I do have a few good memories of that (i.e., the mornings when I would listen to Nancy DeMoss, before heading off to work).  Rather, I remember how I enjoyed listening to Christian pop music when I was driving to work.  I also remember with fondness Focus on the Family's Adventures in Odyssey, which featured stories.  Maybe I like music and stories rather than pompous, know-it-all evangelical preachers talking at me through my radio! 

In any case, I kept the flyer, but I probably won't go back to listening to Christian radio.  I learn about the Bible from blogs, articles, books, and, well, the Bible itself.  And I get inspiration from books and television shows.  I don't want to go back to eating styrofoam or (worse) raw sewage, which is what listening to Christian radio could be like for me.

Jonathan Aitken's Nixon: A Life 14

I finished Jonathan Aitken's Nixon: A Life.  In this post, I'd like to share one of my favorite stories.  I don't have any profound thoughts to add about it, but I just liked it.

On page 566, Aitken is talking about the dedication of Richard Nixon's Presidential Library and Birthplace.  Back when Nixon was President, Nixon's close adviser, H.R. Haldeman, did not get along with Nixon's long-time secretary, Rose Mary Woods.  Haldeman tended to restrict access to the President, and he could be quite intimidating, which was why Nixon entrusted him with the tasks that he himself was uncomfortable doing.  And Woods herself was one tough lady!  Incidentally, Woods reportedly did not get along with Henry Kissinger, either, and Aitken tells a story about how she really dressed Kissinger down when Kissinger proudly did not want Alexander Haig to be Chief of Staff because Haig had served under him in the past; to his credit, Kissinger agreed to play ball!

But back to the dedication of Richard Nixon's Presidential Library and Birthplace!  Aitken narrates: "Resplendent in a green silk dress, [Woods] was meeting and greeting like a Hollywood hostess, even giving her old adversary Bob Haldeman a warm embrace after he whispered: 'I'm so sorry Rose, and for so many things.'"

I have to respect Haldeman for apologizing.  I've wondered about his human side, underneath his gruff exterior.  Some day, I may read his book and his diary, but I most likely won't do so for My Year (or More) of Nixon, since I'm in the process of winding that down, and I'm getting eager to move on to other things.  Haldeman did have a human side, beyond being Nixon's stern functionary.  He had children.  He (like John Ehrlichman) was a devout Christian Scientist.  And I have to give him credit for being loyal to Nixon throughout Nixon's life, when there were others who bitterly deserted him, for Haldeman attended Pat Nixon's funeral.  Haldeman's book about his time in the Nixon Administration was not particularly flattering to Nixon, as I understand it, but he would come to be reconciled with Nixon.  Moreover, it's also interesting to me that Haldeman was generous with his time when it came to people who were writing about Nixon, for he gave interviews.  I've wondered if I would be too intimidated to interview a no-nonsense man like Bob Haldeman, but, from what I read of his responses in interviews, he seemed to be quite open and helpful.

I'm glad that I read Aitken's book.  It's probably my favorite biography of Nixon that I have read so far, especially because of its anecdotes about Nixon's kindness, as well as its interviews.  Plus, Aitken is a really good writer: I like his easygoing prose!  I suppose that his book speaks to the side of me that loves The Waltons and Little House on the Prairie, which seeks good in people, notwithstanding their flaws.  I think that it's important to balance out Aitken with books that are more anti-Nixon, if one is interested in studying Nixon.  But I'm definitely glad that I read Aitken's work, and I someday may read some of the other books that he has written.

Joe Conley (Who Played Ike Godsey on the Waltons)

I've been getting back into watching The Waltons.  I'm in season 1 right now.

I was looking up some of the cast members, and I noticed that Joe Conley, the actor who played the storekeeper Ike Godsey, passed away a few days ago.  I've always liked Ike!  He was such a nice person!  But I noticed something on an episode that I watched today, entitled "The Dust Bowl Cousins": Ike had a really cold attitude towards those who steal from him!  (Don't we all?!)

Here's an excellent article about Joe Conley.  It has tributes from some of his fellow cast members, Joe's statement in 1977 that he divided up his time between The Waltons and his real-estate ventures, and Joe's observation that people would come up to him, call him Ike, and chat with him like he was an old friend.  Joe said: "I have to remember that for ten years I did visit their home every week. To them I am an old friend or a member of the family."

Joe also wrote a book.  You can find it here on Amazon.  I also noticed that Mary McDonough, who played Erin, has written a book (see here). 

R.I.P. Joe Conley. 

Follow Your Heart, and What Is, Is

Well, today is the day before my sermon!  So I'll write one last post for my series on preaching----though I may also write about my sermon tomorrow, after I come home from church.  In this post, I'll draw from The Waltons episode entitled "The Sermon", in which John-Boy has to give a sermon at his church in the pastor's absence.  I have two thoughts.

1.  In the Waltons episode, John-Boy checks out a bunch of books to help him prepare for his sermon, and his Grandma gives him advice (based on the preachers she has heard over the years) in hope that John-Boy will be a powerful preacher on Sunday.  John-Boy feels a little overwhelmed, for he wants to deliver a learned sermon, but he doesn't have any preaching experience, plus there are a few in the congregation who don't have a whole lot of faith in him.  As John-Boy pores over the books, his father John checks on him to see how he is doing, and John gives John-Boy one of those helpful Walton father-son chats.  John-Boy complains to his father that the books are telling him to do all sorts of contradictory things, and he doesn't know whom to believe.  John then tells his son that, at some point, John-Boy will have to put away the books, and even put his grandmother's advice to the side, so he can listen to what his own heart is telling him and write the sermon that he wants to write.  John then reminds John-Boy that John-Boy is a good writer, and the words usually come to him.

Something that I have highlighted in my series on preaching is that there are all sorts of ideas about what constitutes effective preaching.  Some say that you should tell stories, while others say that sermons should have meaty intellectual content.  Some advocate pounding the pulpit, whereas others promote a gentler approach.  And the list goes on.  My opinion is that all sorts of styles can be effective.  I've heard powerful sermons in which the preacher shares wisdom that he or she gained from personal experience, but I have heard other sermons that were good but did not share any personal anecdotes, or even stories, for that matter.  And the reverse is true----I've heard bad sermons that had anecdotes, and bad sermons that lacked a personal touch.

In terms of the sermon that I will be delivering this Sunday, I do not share any personal anecdotes, but I go through the story of Job, then I draw points of application from it.  I think that the negative to this is that my sermon lacks a personal touch, since it's largely exegesis.  For Layperson Sunday, in which a layperson like me preaches the sermon, people in my church probably want a personal touch----they want me to bring who I am as a person into my sermon, as I share who I am.  The last time that a layperson delivered the sermon was during Gifts of Women Sunday, and the lady giving that message talked about her own experiences as a single-parent, as she brought in the biblical story of Hagar (see here).  

But my sermon will be different.  It's not because I, like John-Boy, meditated in solitude and made a decision about the best kind of sermon that I could preach.  Rather, what happened was that I sat in front of the computer to type my sermon out, and what came out was what came out.  I felt that I should tell the story of Job, and it took me a lot of time to do so, such that I did not have the time to cut to a personal anecdote----plus doing so would disrupt the flow of my message.  Is my sermon the best?  No, but it is what it is.  And, in a sense, it does communicate who I am----it tells the congregation that I interpret biblical texts, and that I am interested in themes that are in the Book of Job. 

I guess that, if you want an anecdote, my telling of the story of Job will be that anecdote!  The Pastor Emeritus' sermons often tell a biblical story and draw lessons from it, and I'll be imitating him in this.  The congregation loves the Pastor Emeritus----some of them even visited other churches where he was preaching, just to hear him!   I think that one reason his sermons have appeal is that he tells the stories of the Bible, and people love stories.

2.  John-Boy fears that his sermon won't be as thoughtful as what the pastor usually delivers, and John tells his son that the pastor has been preaching for a long time and thus has experience and knowledge when it comes to preaching, and also that John-Boy won't learn all that there is to know about preaching in a week.  I think that these are important insights.  My message this coming Sunday probably won't be the best sermon ever delivered in the history of homiletics.  Maybe I won't ever be invited to preach at my church again!  (John-Boy said that he was never asked to preach again after his sermon.)  But my sermon will be what it will be!

I may share with you how my sermon goes, since I write about my experiences at church each week.  Or I may comment on a hymn I sang, as I sometimes do in my church write-ups.  I'm somewhat like Grandpa Walton: one reason that I like going to church is the singing!

Speaking with Authority: Delivery

I'll be preaching this coming Sunday, and so I've been doing a little series on preaching.

What I want to talk about today is speaking with authority.  There are many people who love it when preachers speak with authority from the pulpit.  This is true both when it comes to delivery, and also content. Today, I'll talk about delivery.

There are plenty of people who want preachers to be on-fire, or excited----maybe even screaming.  I talked yesterday about The Waltons episode, "The Sermon", in which John-Boy has to give the sermon at his church, and he is nervous about this task.  Grandma Walton tries to help John-Boy by giving him some Scriptures and advice about preaching.  While Grandma Walton likes the church's pastor (who is played by John Ritter), she much prefers the on-fire preachers she heard back when she was younger, the types who pounded the pulpit and shouted words such as "vengeance".  (One part of this scene that I especially liked was when Grandpa was smiling while he heard Grandma offering her advice to John-Boy, even though Grandpa didn't see eye-to-eye with her on religion.  I don't think that Grandpa was smiling because he had contempt or mockery for Grandma, but rather because he admired that she was helping her grandson, and he appreciated what made her tick.)  But John-Boy is hesitant to go the pound-the-pulpit route.  As he tells Grandpa, he has long seen religion as a personal thing, so he's hesitant to make dogmatic truth-claims from the pulpit.

In my sermon, should I pound the pulpit?  A few posts ago, I talked about the Optimist Club Oratorical contests in which I participated a long time ago.  When I was in junior high school, I was practicing my speech before my English teacher, and (for whatever reason) I used the shouting, pound-the-pulpit style.  My teacher told me that it's better to speak with the audience, rather than shout at the audience.  What did she mean by that?  Speaking with the audience entails sharing with people and highlighting a common concern----it's saying that "we" are concerned about this issue rather than "you" are bad because you are not sufficiently concerned about it.  According to my teacher, people respond more when there is a "we" element than they do when they are shouted at.

I think that there's something to what my teacher is saying.  At the same time, in the realm of preaching, being shouted at is effective in the eyes of many people.  They feel convicted of sin when a preacher is shouting at them, and thus they try to walk the Christian (or church-ian!) walk better.  Or they admire the preacher for boldly inveighing against other people's sins!

What sorts of sermons have I heard in my life?  Garner Ted Armstrong's approach was more conversational than pounding-the-pulpit, whereas Ron Dart often could get pretty fiery!  My Dad was an effective preacher, but he did not pound the pulpit.  He was more of a teacher, one who explained things.  I wouldn't even say that his sermons were laced with emotion, but there was something attractive about his matter-of-fact, humble, and thoughtful manner of preaching.  I remember when he was talking about the two witnesses in a sermon, and the church was recording his message.  The tape was done after an hour, but the church was willing to put in another tape so that Dad could go on for another hour!  Tim Keller is another preacher who does not pound the pulpit but teaches, which is not surprising, considering that Keller is a former professor.

In terms of what works on me as a person in the audience, pounding-the-pulpit sermons can convict me, and yet they can also turn me off and make me resistant.  And I don't think that's always because I know deep down that the preacher is right and I'm resisting the truth, for it's often because the preacher comes across to me as overly dogmatic and as judgmental, and what he says does not strike me as true, necessarily.  As far as mild, thoughtful teaching-sermons go, I like those.  Some of them can be pretty boring, but there are plenty of good ones out there.

What style will I be using this coming Sunday?  I won't be shouting angrily at the congregation, I can tell you that.  My sermon is intended to be a life-affirming sermon----one that encourages "us" rather than being me shouting at "you" (the congregation).  There probably will be times when I add an emotional flavor to my preaching this coming Sunday, but I'm not sure to what extent I will do that.  I do know that I don't want my delivery to be boring, and so I'll have to work on inflecting my voice and speaking loudly enough for people to hear me (since I'm rather soft-spoken).  Confidence will also be important.  On the Waltons episode, John-Boy's voice trembled a little when he was preaching, indicating he was nervous, and yet he still spoke with a degree of confidence, mingled with humility.  That combination is what I'd like in my delivery this coming Sunday.

The Waltons: The Sermon

I'll be preaching this coming Sunday, and I watched the episode of The Waltons in which John-Boy has to give the sermon at his church. Giving a sermon can be quite difficult.  There's the challenge of coming up with something thoughtful to say, that people would actually want to hear.  And then there's the challenge of delivering your points in an effective manner.  But it was enjoyable to watch how John-Boy dealt with this.  And, on a side-note, I could also identify with other characters in their struggles on this episode: Olivia was trying to be a good substitute teacher, and Jim-Bob was struggling to find a topic for a paper he had to write.

I may refer to part of this episode tomorrow, in another post about preaching.  Stay tuned!

No True Heroes; Inner Nurturing; Death as Punishment?; Born Again; Post-Exilic Composition or Update?; Prophets; IMDB

1. Samuel C. Hyde, Jr., Pistols and Politics: The Dilemma of Democracy in Louisiana’s Florida Parishes, 1810-1899, page 176:

J.W. Armstead, a black West Feliciana proponent of education, informed congressional investigators that the Republican misuse of school funds created scores of Democratic supporters among the freedmen.

Why would freed slaves support the Democrats, who were the conservative party of the South, the party that looked back at the time of slavery as the "good old days"? One reason that Hyde cites is that the freed slaves were intimidated by white supremacists against voting Republican. At the same time, the Republicans were telling freedmen that they wouldn't get any acres and mules from the Republicans if the G.O.P. got into power, unless the freedmen supported the Republicans. And so freedmen were caught between a rock and a hard place.

So there were freedmen who were scared into becoming Democrats, or at least into staying home on election day, which was fine with the white supremacists. But there were also freedmen---many of them---who supported the Democratic Party, on account of the corruption of Republican officials, who misappropriated public funds that were intended to help African-Americans and others in the Louisiana parishes.

So there were not good guys to root for in the political arena, at least at this point.

2. Robert Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land, page 100:

Agnes should have seen how easily [Smith] was frightened, then she wouldn't talk that way. Smith would appeal to the maternal in her.

Fear in a strange world. The desire for comfort. If only we could internalize a nurturing sense. Is that possible?

3. Erhard Gerstenberger, Psalms, Part I with an Introduction to Cultic Poetry, page 205:

Vv. 9-11 [of Psalm 49] might counteract the preposterous attitudes of the rich: even if they paid the highest ransom, they still must pass away (v. 9). Could one of them live on and not see the grave (v. 10)? Certainly not! Even wise men die (v. 11). The whole concern is thus with the oppressing class. The stanza emphasizes the fact that, contrary to appearance, the powerful wealthy are under the unfailing supervision of God and controlled by death...The main emphasis, however, is on hope...because in the last analysis the powerful are only finite human beings...

A sobering statement about death. But I can see why Judaism eventually adopted a conception of an afterlife. Sure, the rich oppressors die, and that should humble them. But so does everybody else, including the oppressed, so why would the oppressed feel better at the prospect of their oppressors dying? All people die. Plus, couldn't another oppressor take the departed oppressor's place? And Job talks about rich oppressors who die in a state of happiness. For Job, death's not a real punishment for them! I can understand why Judaism felt a need to embrace a scenario in which justice triumphs, things are made right, and the good and the bad get what they deserve.

But human mortality is still very humbling.

4. Richard Sarason, A History of the Mishnaic Law of Agriculture: A Study of Tractate Demai, page 229:

Sarason talks about a Gentile proselyte to Judaism and his Gentile brother, whose father dies. The proselyte is now a Jew, so he is prohibited to derive benefit from idolatry. Consequently, he is forbidden to inherit the father's idols and libation wine. That stuff can go to the Gentile brother. But the proselyte can still stipulate that he wants to inherit money and produce. To do so, he must make a "formal act of acquisition". Under the rabbinic law that Sarason discusses, proselytes have no inheritance rites, for they have been born anew as Jews, and thus are severed from their old family. But they can still legally stipulate what they want from their father's property.

At Harvard, Jon Levenson once presented us with a scenario. Under Judaism, a Gentile loses his old identity and becomes the son of Abraham and Sarah when he converts. And so Levenson posed a question: suppose the man's mother also converts. Can they marry each other? Technically, they're no longer mother and son, for they have new identities. Levenson's response was that Judaism says they can't marry each other, because that looks bad to outsiders.

5. Baruch Levine, Numbers 1-20, pages 107-108:

Levine tries to date P according to its language---whether it reflects Hebrew that is early or late. Numbers 2 and 10 use the term degel, "otherwise known from Aramaic documents of the Persian period as the designation for a military unit arrayed around a fort or command post." But Levine does not conclude that Numbers 2 and 10 were originally written in the Persian Period, but "only that they were redacted or adapted at that time"---namely, in the sixth-fifth centuries B.C.E.

But there are other sections of P that Levine dates to the Persian Period---when he believes that they originated, rather than merely being updated. He refers to Numbers 30, which uses the term issar, "ban", in the context of a discussion on vows. According to Levine, "The term is basic to the entire votive system embodied in that chapter, so in no way can it be regarded as editorial." The term "has now turned up in the Samaria Papyri from Wadi Daliye, dated to the third quarter of the fourth century". And the term appears nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible, except for the Aramaic sections of Daniel, which is late, by both conservative and liberal standards. So Levine dates Numbers 30 to the fifth-fourth century B.C.E.

I was once talking with a colleague about the age of documents: can we say they are late because they have later features? His response was that the text could be early, yet be updated at a later time. Levine takes this possibility into account, but he offers a way to distinguish composition in a late date from editorial updating.

6. For my ATLA book review reading, I realized that I should probably take a look at some of the books. I'll still be reading and writing about book reviews, for I can't read all of the books in time. But I should probably be a little more knowledgeable about the scholarly debates about what prophets are---are they poets, or prophets, or both? I've heard that my professor who's giving me my Hebrew Bible comp views the prophets primarily in a literary sense, rather than as actual fortune-tellers. That coincides with one book review I read, which reviewed a book that presented the Book of Zephaniah as a writing that has multiple post-exilic compositions within it. For this author, if there was a prophet Zephaniah, he didn't have much to do with the final form of the book that bears his name!

Some of the books also cover Native American prophecy, which sounds interesting to me.

7. I got Volume 2 of Season 3 of Highway to Heaven today. You know, there are actors in episodes that I have seen over and over, but I never connected who they were with other shows I had watched. I watched one that had the lady who played Miriam on the Ten Commandments ("Blessed am I among all mothers in the land..."), and she also was Mary on Ben Hur. On another episode, there was one of the Baldwin sisters from the Waltons, but she doesn't remind me of her all that much---not only because she's not drinking recipe, or waiting for Ashley (the father of Riker from Star Trek: The Next Generation, who played Ashley's son) to come back, but also because she doesn't have that dainty quality that she has on the Waltons.

The Internet Movie Database opens a lot of doors!

Authenticity

In Crazy for God, Frank Schaeffer talks about how he used to be inauthentic. When he was on the right-wing Christian speaking circuit, he felt inauthentic, as if he were playing a role, for he didn't truly believe in what he was saying. When he made secular movies that turned out to be flops (even though one of them had Dr. David Marcus from the Star Trek movies), he was being inauthentic, for his aim in making those movies was to make a big name for himself in the secular world. Those movies were a means to an end, not an authentic expression of himself. With his writing, however, about his family and his life experiences and the things that inspire him, etc., he has a chance to finally be authentic, and to make a living in the process.

I thought about authenticity as I watched Jodie Foster on Biography today. Jodie said she's at the point in her career where she can act in and create movies that inspire her. They flow from her very being, as if they have to be made. And, in discussing a movie she made that received bad reviews, she said that at least she had an opportunity to say what she needed to say, and, if she's the only person in the audience who receives benefit from that movie, then so be it. It was worth it!

But does authenticity pay the bills? Suppose I were to be a writer. I can be authentic in (say) my writing, but if no one is interested, can my writing be called "good" or pay the bills?

Can one accept constructive criticism from others about one's work, and still be authentic?

Does America force us to be inauthentic? I was watching Joyce Meyer yesterday, and she was talking about how people are laid back in other countries. Here, however, we have to do and be everything. Few of us can be ourselves because of demands placed upon us to succeed, or even to survive. People like to talk about having a job that "fits" them, that doesn't really feel like work, but how many of those kinds of jobs are there? Bills need to be paid, people must work to pay them, and the result is that they find themselves doing things that aren't expressions of who they truly are. I believe Marx called that "alienation."

Is authenticity a luxury?

I get the impression as I read certain narratives that hard work and being authentic lead to success. It can lead to failure too! I think of John-Boy on the Waltons (which I haven't seen in a long time). He wrote a book about his family life, but he found that the company he wanted to publish it had numerous other manuscripts to read. Here are writers who have worked hard, yet they might not even have an audience! I'd like to write, since that's something I enjoy doing, but would that pay the bills? There are successes, but there are failures too.

But these are my authentic ramblings for the day!

Mother's Day 2009

For Mother's Day this year, I want to list ten of my favorite television mothers. In many respects, they resemble my own mom in that they love their kids. Enjoy!

1. Annie Camden (7th Heaven): She is feisty and firm in her beliefs, but she has a strong moral center and tries to teach her kids to do the right thing.

2. Caroline Ingalls (Little House on the Prairie): She has a sweet motherly demeanor, and she always tries to make her kids feel better, or at least to give them another way of looking at things. Sometimes, her advice can be tough, as when she told Laura to act like an adult after Charles called her a "little girl" in front of Almonzo.

3. Olivia Walton (The Waltons): She's often busy with the housework, but she's always there for her kids when they have problems.

4. Martha Kent (Smallville): She'd give her life for her son, Clark! She had always wanted a baby but was not able to have one (or so we thought until Season 2). Adopting Clark brought a lot of risks and perils, including the death of her husband, Jonathan. But she still loved her son.

5. Lara (Smallville): Lara is Clark's biological mother who lived on Krypton. Although she realized that she had to send Clark to earth because Krypton was falling apart around her, she wondered if the people on earth would take care of him. That's a sign of a good mother: she thinks about the well-being of her kids even when they are far away.

6. Nora Walker (Brothers and Sisters): I've only watched the first four episodes of this series, but she's probably the most realistic mom I've seen on television! She loves her kids, yet she is estranged from her ultra-conservative daughter Kitty, as both try to build bridges with one another. She blames others a lot and isn't always willing to acknowledge her own role in the family's problems, but she usually seeks to change when someone confronts her with something she's done wrong. She tends to nag, but that's what moms do, I guess! It shows that they care.

7. Pauline ("Posey") Benetto (Mitch Albom's For One More Day): This book was made into a movie in 2007, and it's about a man who was estranged from his mother, yet was blessed to spend one more day with her years after her death. Posey loved her son, even though he tended to prefer his father. When her son was a little boy, and the librarian only allowed him to check out children's books, she marched right into the library and told the librarian never to limit her son! She also tried to make a home for her kids after their father left them, as when she dressed up like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

8. Mrs. Kovic (Born on the Fourth of July): Born on the Fourth of July was an Oliver Stone movie about Vietnam veteran and anti-war activist, Ron Kovic. Kovic's mother had a sense of destiny about her son, presumably because he was born on the fourth of July. When the family was gathering around the television set watching JFK's inauguration, she said she had a dream in which her son was speaking before a lot of people, saying great things. She still faced challenges, though, especially when her son came back from Vietnam and was disrupting the family's life!

9. Hester Crane (Frasier): She was the mother of Frasier and Niles and the wife of Martin. She was a rather complex character. Her husband remembers her as someone who always looked for the best in people, and she accepted her gay friend in a time when homosexuality was a lot less accepted by society. Yet, she came across as cold and manipulative on Cheers, since she didn't care much for Diane, Frasier's fiancee. Maybe she was looking out for her son!

10. Lynette Scavo (Desperate Housewives): I think about this one story-line this season, in which Lynette is chatting with her son on the Internet, but he doesn't know that the person he's chatting with is his mother. He thinks it's a girl his own age! The two really bond, but he gets mad when he finds out that he was talking to his mother the whole time. After he leaves the room, his mom says that she'll miss the talks. Like a lot of moms, she enjoyed getting to know her son and learning about who he was as a person.

On that note, have a happy Mother's Day!

Pragmatic and Principled Conservatism

These are some scattered responses to the comments under my post, Jonathan Krohn on Conservatism. There may be some inner contradictions in what I say, but that's why my blog is called James' Thoughts and Musings, or, for my Wordpress friends, James' Ramblings.

1. First of all, here's a comment by my good friend Felix:

"Thank God you have a conscience. The Republicans need to embrace Mid-20th Century Classical Liberals (Roosevelt, Truman and the Kennedys---John and Bobby) and distingu[i]sh them from the tax and spend liberals today. If they can't do that, they deserve to be irrelevant."

To be honest, there is a strong part of me that can't stand FDR. I get so sick of him being portrayed as a divine sort of figure! There are times when I want to throw my remote at my TV set when I'm watching the Waltons, but my hand is stayed by the incisive conservatism of Grandma Walton. On the other hand, her criticizing that one writer for having a government job somewhat disturbed me, since that was the only job he could find! It was either that or starvation. She should have been more considerate by realizing that we don't always choose the options that are set before us.

FDR ordered farmers to burn their crops. He put people in jail for not charging the government-mandated prices. The man was on such a power trip, that he tried to pack the U.S. Supreme Court when it declared his policies unconstitutional. What got America out of the Great Depression was the war, not the New Deal. I used to read this in outside-of-the-mainstream conservative pamphlets, but now it's in our political discourse, as Obama tries to become the second FDR (domestically speaking).

Felix's use of the word "irrelevant" is important because it prompts the question: Why should we be conservatives? Jonathan Krohn said in his C-PAC speech that many people confuse conservative policies with conservative principles. I'm not about to suggest that Felix is confused about anything, but I do want to propose this thought: there is a difference between believing in conservatism because it's pragmatically sound, and embracing it out of principle.

What is believing in conservatism because it's pragmatically sound? On Sunday, I was watching This Week on ABC (I can't spell George's last name), and one of the pundits referred to an article by David Frum that said Reagan's conservative policies (e.g., tax cuts, deregulation, spending cuts) worked in the 1980's, but they're not exactly the best medicine for today. That says we should implement policies based on how well they work. When Felix says that the Republicans risk becoming "irrelevant," he's saying that they're not speaking in a way that resonates with most of today's voters. Some may say that a balanced federal budget is fiscally responsible because it ensures that the next generation won't have to pay for today's extravagance, but one can have a balanced budget and an intrusive government. Many who believe in a balanced budget want government restraint because it's pragmatically sound. They’re perfectly willing for the government to interfere in certain areas, as long as it does so in a cost-efficient manner.

Conservatives out of principle, however, maintain that it's morally wrong for the federal government to be involved in certain areas. As far as they're concerned, the feds should protect life, liberty, and property, and that's it! Any other interference is an assault on freedom. For such conservatives, the problem with, say, Medicare is not only that it spends a lot of money. It's that the government shouldn't be involved in this area in the first place! And if a such a message is irrelevant, these types of conservatives would say, "Oh well!" Freedom is morally right, period, whether it resonates with the electorate or not.

I think most Republicans talk like they're conservatives out of principle, when actually they're conservatives out of pragmatism (if they're even that! Bush spent money like a sailor.) They may cut food stamps or Medicaid, but they don't aim to do away with government interference in the domestic sphere. In 1996, Bob Dole liked to quote the Tenth Amendment, which says that the powers not assigned to the federal government by the Constitution are reserved to the states and the people. But I didn't see him try to abolish Medicare as an unconstitutional federal usurping of power.

2. Now let's turn to someone who strikes me as a conservative out of principle, Izgad. He writes:

"There is an important distinction to be made here between the government and the private sector. The government has the ability to point blank use physical force. If you do not wish to pay a government tax or follow the law, the government can physically put you in jail. The private sector does not have this power. So, almost by definition, the private sector can never be antagonistic to liberty; it does not have the means to. If I wish to pay my workers $3 an hour and they chose to accept such a deal than, as long as I did not send my goons out to 'convince' them, than no one’s liberty has been violated. If I decide that I do not want to hire people because they are black, gay or have the letter Q in their names I have not violated their liberties. They never had the right to work for me in the first place. Now when the government comes after me for violating the minimum wage law and for practicing discrimination than my liberties have been violated."

I don't want to put words in Izgad's mouth, and I welcome his correction if I am wrong, but he seems to be criticizing the minimum wage and anti-discrimination laws. What I'm reading here is that businesses have a right to pay what they want, to whom they want, provided the employees agree to the wage (which they do by working).

Izgad is defining liberty in a libertarian manner, one that focuses on the government as an agent of force. I guess what I'm suggesting is that freedom can also mean having choices. When a person is deprived of opportunity because he's African-American, then his choices are being restricted, as he is hindered from pursuing his full potential. When a worker's only two options are to work for a low wage or to starve, is that really a legitimate choice? Sure, I guess that there technically is liberty, since the government isn't interfering, but are people truly free in this sort of set-up? Conservatives have said that the government needs to get off people's backs so they can pursue their full potential, but can all people actually do this in a laissez-faire society?

Of course, libertarians probably have good answers to my concerns, e.g., the government encourages monopoly and hinders competition. That should certainly be on the table, since the narratives we're used to may not be telling us the full story.

Anyway, that's all for today. I hope I haven't offended anybody! Just remember that I am somewhat of a "conservative by pragmatism" myself, so I'm not using that term as an insult.

Have a good day!

Chester A. Arthur

Today is Presidents' Day, and I decided to celebrate it by randomly selecting a President and writing about him. My mouse fell on Chester A. Arthur, a Republican who was President from 1881-1885. Here's the wikipedia article about him.

Where was he in history? He was President a little after the Civil War. Arthur was Vice-President under James Garfield, a big-time Civil War general. And the Secretary of War in Arthur's administration was Robert Todd Lincoln, the son of Honest Abe.

Here are some thoughts I had as I read Arthur's story:

1. Wikipedia states the following about Arthur's reputation: "Publisher Alexander K. McClure wrote, 'No man ever entered the Presidency so profoundly and widely distrusted, and no one ever retired…more generally respected.' Author Mark Twain, deeply cynical about politicians, conceded, 'It would be hard indeed to better President Arthur's administration.'"

Arthur did not exactly become President with the best reputation. He was a stalwart in the Republican Party, meaning he supported cronyism and the spoils system. For Arthur, it wasn't what you know that got you a political position, but whom you know!

Arthur was a part of Roscoe Conkling's political machine in New York, and, when he served as Collector of Customs for the Port of New York, his removal by President Rutherford P. Hayes was considered a reform! Arthur later became the Vice-President to James Garfield, who didn't really like him. In 1881, Garfield was assassinated by Charles Guiteau, who exclaimed, "I am a Stalwart of the Stalwarts... Arthur is president now!" I wonder if there were conspiracy theories about the Garfield assassination!

But Arthur changed, probably in response to the national grief over Garfield's death. He helped pass the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act, which replaced the spoils system with a meritocracy for certain positions. Arthur angered many of his old stalwart friends in the process!

The lesson here is that people can surprise you! Harry Truman was once in the Ku Klux Klan, but he integrated the Armed Forces as President. Earl Warren as governor of California placed Japanese-Americans in internment camps during World War II, but he was the Chief Justice who spearheaded Brown vs. the Board of Education. And many wonder if Barack Obama will be a reformer. Here was a man who may have been part of Chicago's political machinery, who supported earmarks as U.S. Senator. Yet, as President, he has supposedly banned earmarks from his stimulus package, and he has tried to reduce the influence of lobbyists in government. Is Obama someone who has changed? Or are his reforms smoke-and-mirrors, as detractors have argued?

2. Arthur could be pretty bold as President because he knew he was dying of a kidney disease. He didn't know if he had a political future or not, so whom he offended was not that important to him. That makes me wonder if a President should only serve one term, since that would free him from continually running for re-election and appeasing lobbyists in the process. At the same time, it would also make him a lame-duck, who'd be accountable to no one.

His kidney disease notwithstanding, Arthur still ran for the Republican nomination in 1884, a race that he lost. That kind of reminds me of the West Wing, in which the Republicans investigated Democratic President Josiah Bartlett to see if he hid his multiple sclerosis from the American people when he ran for President. Scandal? I guess the Republicans' reasoning was that the American people should be fully informed about a candidate's capacity when they made their decision.

3. Arthur had an attractive wife who died before he became President. Many women wanted to marry him, but he resolved never to marry again. That reminds me of the movie The American President, in which Michael Douglas plays a widower President.

If someone re-marries after a spouse has died, does that mean he or she loves the spouse less? Arthur may have felt that his wife was irreplaceable, since she was special to him in a unique way! But I'm reminded of something a new pastor said on an episode of The Waltons: "I'm not trying to 'replace' your old pastor, since he can't be replaced. But I hope to find my own place in your community." So maybe one can remarry without loving the departed spouse less.

4. Like many people, Arthur was a man of contradictions. As a lawyer, he defended a black woman who was denied seating on a streetcar, a case that led to the desegregation of the New York City public transportation system. Yet, as President, he signed a law that restricted Chinese immigration to the United States. Add to this his personal story: His mom was partly Native American, and there was controversy about whether Chester Arthur was even born in the United States, which would seriously impact his qualifications for the Presidency. Did Arthur's "outsider" status lead him to empathize with other outsiders? In some cases, perhaps. In others, no.

5. The discussion on Arthur's birth in the U.S. sounds like similar debates about Barack Obama, but here's another similarity: both had to do the oath of office all over again. Arthur did so because he was initially sworn in by a New York justice. Obama retook it because John Roberts got the words wrong.

6. Arthur used to take solitary walks late at night to relax. I've done that before. When I lived in Indiana, I sometimes took walks late at night, and that really calmed my mind. Those were some of my best prayer times! But I don't go out late at night nowadays unless I absolutely have to. It's a matter of personal safety! Still, I miss those walks.

I hope you enjoyed our journey through the life of Chester A. Arthur. Happy Presidents Day!

Victor French and Ned Beatty on the Waltons

I saw an episode of the Waltons today with Victor French--Isaiah Edwards on Little House on the Prairie, and Mark Gordon on Highway to Heaven. He didn't have a beard! He didn't even have a heavy mustache, which he generally had on Gunsmoke. But he had the same gruff, folksy mannerisms, and he was good with kids, as he was on the Michael Landon shows.

On the Waltons, Victor French played the same role that Ned Beatty had in the 1973 episode, The Bicycle. The Waltons often had different people play the same part: Todd Bridges and two other actors played Josh Foster, and there were two John-Boys. But I think Victor French was the right choice for the episode I saw today, The Fulfillment, which was about a man who bonded with an angry orphan.

I've not seen too many shows or movies in which Ned Beatty was good with kids. The only one that comes to mind is an episode of Highway to Heaven, in which Beatty plays the perfect television dad, who in real life is anything but. A couple of orphans want Beatty to adopt them, and Jonathan (Michael Landon) works to make Beatty more like his cheerful TV persona. But, even there, Beatty was not a natural with kids, as was Victor French. Who can forget Victor French's funny faces on Highway to Heaven?

Desperate Housewives Thoughts

I watched the new Desperate Housewives last night, and I finished up Season 1 today. Here are some thoughts:

1. I found the episode last night to be very moving. As viewers know, Carlos is starting to regain his sight, as he's been blind for quite some time. Unbenownst to him, his wife, Gabby, has had to sell off their valuable items to maintain a basic lifestyle (e.g., fix the roof, eat, etc.). Carlos really values his baseball that was autographed by Lou Gehrig, since that was passed down to him by his father, who received it from his father. When Carlos learns that Gabby has sold it, he demands that she get it back.

As Gabby is dancing on a table to get the baseball back from the person she sold it to (since she learned that she couldn't track down the real Lou Gehrig), Carlos notices some strange things around the house. Gabby's closet--which used to be full of elaborate, beautiful, expensive clothes--now only has a few plain shirts and pants. Her jewelry chest, which once had all types of gold and diamonds and silver and rubies, is now virtually empty.

Keep in mind that, in the past, Gabby has been a shallow, vain, materialistic, rather selfish woman. As a former model, she's obsessed with the way she looks. She'd go into debt to keep up her lavish lifestyle! But she's changed over the past few years. She's stuck with Carlos, even though he's blind and doesn't bring in the cash he once did. And she's sacrificed the things that she loves to support her husband and kids. When Carlos notices this, he decides to sell the baseball, and he resolves to spend the rest of his life repaying his wife for the sacrifices she made.

I guess the scene in which Carlos was looking around the house really hit home for me because I've been watching Season 1, in which Gabby has loads of nice things and is bent on keeping them. Now, her house looks empty. And she's learned to do what many in families have had to do: sacrifice their own happiness for someone else, which often brings rewards of its own.

2. Last week's episode was moving too. Carlos is told that he'll regain his sight, and Gabby is afraid that Carlos won't love her once he sees her, since she's not exactly the glamor girl that she was a few years ago. As she shares her concern with Carlos in bed, Carlos says, "Do you know when I decided I wanted to marry you?" "When you saw me walking down the runway," she responded. "No, that's when I decided I wanted to sleep with you," Carlos replied. Carlos then reminded her of their first date, when they were eating ribs. Gabby got really dirty, as her arms were covered with barbecue sauce. When Carlos remarked that she should look in the mirror, Gabby looked at her arms and laughed out loud. "When I heard that laugh, I decided that was something I wanted to hear for the rest of my life," Carlos said.

I liked that because I often assumed that Gabby was Carlos' trophy-wife, when she was actually more than that. He valued her, not just her appearance. And, even though they've separated a few times and found other lovers (Gabby was even married to the mayor for a time), they always tend to find their way back to each other.

3. I watched some of the special features of Season 1, one of which was Marc Cherry's acceptance speech at the Emmy's. Behind him were the main characters of the show--Lynette, Brea, Susan, Gabby, Mike, etc. Mike said that, a few years before, he was a poor comedy writer struggling to find work. But he decided to write about his mom's experiences. His mom was an ideal housewife, who always had on a happy facade. But, when little Marc was watching a news story about a mom who went berserk on her family, he learned that his own mom had a lot of unhappiness. He then concluded that many housewives had a sense of desperation.

The families on the show mirror some aspect of his own upbringing. Lynette trying to control her unruly kids resembles his own mom's interaction with him when he was little. Brea the perfect homemaker with sassy teenagers is a scenario that fits his adolescent years.

I liked the way that Marc Cherry thanked his mom for giving him the idea of Desperate Housewives. The reason is that he wasn't patting himself on the back for being brilliant, for the whole idea for the show came from another person's experiences. In a sense, the show is outside of and beyond himself.

That reminds me a lot of the Waltons: John-Boy doesn't pat himself on the back for being a good writer, since his ideas come from his own family. They're the ones he's writing about. In a sense, his success is their success as well, as people are entertained by their colorful personalities, wisdom, and character. So it's success without the ego, as one values something (or someone) beyond himself. That's something I'd like to have!

4. I did a search on "Brenda Strong," who plays Mary Alice Young on Desperate Housewives. The wikipedia article said that she was on 7th Heaven. I expected to find she was on one episode, but I discovered that she was on several. I couldn't remember what ones she was on, until I read the description of one of the shows, in which Annie was trying to teach at Ruthie's private academy for the gifted. That's when I remembered. Brenda Strong was Ruthie's principal! Even on that, she had a calm, friendly, pleasant demeanor.

Did I recognize Ruthie's principal as Mary Alice when I watched 7th Heaven? After all, I started watching Desperate Housewives before I watched 7th Heaven. The answer is "no." I hadn't seen too many episodes of Desperate Housewives in which Mary Alice was actually on. She was usually the omniscient narrator, so I heard her voice, but I didn't see her that often. But it's cool that I can now connect her with her 7th Heaven character!

Aggadic Stories Soothing the Soul

Source: H. Graetz, History of the Jews, volume II (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1893) 623.

"The reigning distress offered no scope for the profundities of the Halacha, but furthered the study of the cheerful Agada, which, diving deep into the joyful and gloomy situations of past ages, poured the balm of consolation on fretted and desperate spirits, and lulled them with the magic of hope."

I identify with this quote because entertainment is something that has gotten me through a lot. It makes me cry. It makes me laugh. I almost feel like I'm spending time with the characters when I watch TV. I'm becoming like Lieutenant Barclay on Star Trek: The Next Generation, with his holodeck addiction. There I go again--talking like these characters are real people!

I believe it was Mark Brettler of Brandeis who argued that some of the stories in the Bible served as comic relief. As the Israelites struggled with Moabite oppression, they could laugh when they heard the story of Eglon the "cowman," which made its way into the Book of Judges (Judges 3). Comedy helped them through some real-life difficulties. That's why I don't feel guilty when my mind turns to funny stuff during my daily quiet time. Laughter is the best medicine!

Does TV offer me hope? Yes and no. A lot of television characters have lives that are far better than mine is. How many girlfriends has John-Boy Walton had? How many have I had? Do you see what I mean? In terms of family life, I'd say mine is more like TV sitcom families than are a lot of families out there, for my family is supporting, loving, and sometimes annoying, but in a caring way.

So TV can be idealistic. But many characters experience some of the same problems that I do, and I can identify with them. And they somehow make it to the other side. Does that give me hope? Perhaps it shows me what's possible. I mean, stories must have some kernel of truth in them, right, considering someone from the real world wrote them?

I can understand how Agada could be soothing. I've taken rabbinic classes, and there's something cozy about a nice rabbinic story. It has the same feel as sitting around the campfire and telling stories, which is something like what I get from my AA meetings, or even at my family gatherings.

But I wonder if the hope the Jews got from their stories was the belief that they may be true, historically speaking. In their minds, maybe Hillel (or Akiba--I don't remember) actually did sit on the roof of the rabbinic academy for decades, before he was finally let inside and went on to become one of the most respected sages of all time. Historians would probably dismiss this story as legend, designed to teach a moral lesson. But did the ancients who heard it see it that way? Maybe they got hope because they thought something good indeed happened to a humble person in the past, and so it could happen to them in the present, provided they imitated such humility.

(Note: See Izgad's comment.)

I don't know.

The Julian Narrative

Source: H. Graetz, History of the Jews, volume II (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1893) 595.

Julian's "favorite thoughts were to protect the oppressed of all nations and religions, to promote the well-being of all his subjects, more especially by alleviating the burden of taxes, to revive the philosophical sciences, to restore the ancient religion, freed, however, from its most conspicuous blemishes, which had rendered it so contemptible and ridiculous; finally, to confine Christianity, which had gained so much power during so short a period, within its proper limits."

Graetz is discussing Julian the Apostate, the Roman emperor from 361-363 C.E. Unlike his predecessors and successors, Julian was not a Christian. Rather, he was a pagan who detested Christianity. To his credit, he reversed the persecution of the Jews at the hands of the Holy Roman Empire. He actually tried to rebuild their temple, but that project was cut short when he died in battle. And Christians were quick to affirm that Julian's death was God's punishment of him for leading Rome away from Christianity.

Did Julian persecute Christians? From what I read in Graetz and other sources (well, wikipedia), Julian didn't kill Christians, but he did try to isolate them from Roman society by cutting them off from its intellectual life. For example, Christian teachers couldn't use pagan sources, which were crucial in Roman education.

I guess what this quote illustrates for me is the different ways that people emplot events. Julian was a good man, on some level. He valued justice and philosophy. He relieved his persecuted Jewish subjects. He didn't buy into the anti-intellectualism or anti-Judaism of certain Christians in his empire. He was somewhat like John Walton: he was a good man who was searching for God in some manner, but he didn't care too much for organized Christianity.

But, the way Christians emplotted it, God didn't care about the good things that Julian did. Julian didn't embrace their narrow Christian doctrine, and so God wasn't on his side. God punished Julian, leading to the rise of emperors who reinstated the Christian policy of persecuting Jews.

A question often enters my mind when I hear evangelicals emplot events, for instance, like when they say that a liberal, non-fundamentalist professor is of Satan while the bold (obnoxious) fundamentalist Christians are of God: Is God really that narrow-minded? If so, why would I want to worship such a God? Because he's bigger and stronger than me?

Things never quite work out in my life as the fundamentalists emplot. When I was at DePauw, I went to an evangelical Bible study group, and the Christians there were talking about how they planted seeds for God on "gay day." The way they told it, God was clearly on their side, and they were winning souls for God on the spiritual battlefield.

One day, I noticed that a woman was setting up a table for gay day, so I went outside to witness to her. "God will use me to bring this woman to repentance," I thought. So I went out and asked her what she thought about religion and homosexuality. After she gave her response, I was about to share with her my evangelical spiel, when she suddenly cut me off. There were others there who needed her help. She handed out ribbons to people who had gay relatives--and, believe me, admitting support for homosexuals was not exactly in at DePauw, especially not in fraternities! One of the students receiving a ribbon said that his brother was gay, and he projected an attitude of "I want to support my brother, but I hope no one is seeing me."

I guess what I'm trying to convey is this: my evangelical spiel looked pretty shallow in the face of all this. God wasn't dramatically using me in that incident, as he supposedly used my Christian friends. And the whole emplotment of good vs. evil didn't seem to fit in that situation. A student was trying to support his gay brother. What is evil about that?

But let's look at the secularist side. Julian looks like a hero, but he wasn't all that tolerant towards Christians. That's the way it often is with secularists or liberals who preach "tolerance": they're not exactly tolerant of conservatives or Christians. They want to ban Intelligent Design from public schools in the name of "science," or they seek to remove religion from the public sphere, period. Julian did good things, but he wasn't all that tolerant of people he disagreed with. His bad!

So is there a point in all this morass? I guess my point is that I have problems with all sorts of narratives: conservative Christian and secular. They end up simplifying reality too much, and they're not that tolerant to people with other perspectives.

Thoughts About Star Trek: The Motion Picture

I watched Star Trek: The Motion Picture a few nights ago because Stephen Collins was on it, and I wanted to see if he was anything like Eric Camden on 7th Heaven. Catherine Hicks was on Star Trek IV, and she definitely acted like Annie Camden, in the sense that she was rather feisty and strong in her convictions.

Stephen Collins wasn't like Eric Camden on Star Trek: The Motion Picture, but he was more like the role he played on one episode of the Waltons: stiff, rather formal, not much voice inflection or ability to connect with people. On the audio commentary and the documentary, however, he was much more like Eric Camden: real, thoughtful, likable, ability to connect with people, open, somewhat mesmerizing, etc.

I wish that he commented more on the religious dimensions of the plot, but many of his comments were about the technical aspects of the film. I appreciated one thing he said about the role of actors. For one scene, he said, he was told to look at the screen ahead and act like he was seeing the most beautiful thing that one could behold. In reality, howevr, he was looking at a big fat "X." Collins then remarked that actors are paid to exercise their imaginations.

Regarding the religious dimensions, he made a statement near the end of the movie about his character's assimilation with the V'Ger space vessel. In the movie, Collins' character, Decker, merges with a NASA space probe that had attained knowledge and consciousness. It was pure logic, so it had a lot of loneliness and inner emptiness. But Collins gave it a human dimension, and it became an omniscient, omnipresent being after their merging.

Collins said that he would have liked to do what Decker did: to leave everything behind and become part of something larger than himself. Nowadays, he said, he'd be less willing to do that, since he has a family that he doesn't want to leave behind. But he said he would have been more willing to undertake such an endeavor in his younger years. Collins also said that, around the time of Star Trek: The Motion Picture, he started to practice meditation, which was a way for him to transcend himself and nature. That corresponded with something I read in wikipedia: that he's a practitioner of Transcendental Meditation, a New Age technique.

While I was listening to the audio commentary, I was reading Book II of the Christ Clones trilogy, which touched a lot on New Age religion. In the book, the Antichrist and his associates maintain that the world is entering a new era, in which people are advancing in their human capabilities. They are on the verge of being able to read one another's thoughts and feelings, which could lead to mutual understanding. And the Antichrist said that religion must go out the door, since it has led to a lot of division and bloodshed. For him, people must learn to appreciate the "god within."

The part about mutual understanding somewhat appealed to me, probably because I find that I am often misunderstood. But I doubt that people would necessarily like me or sympathize with me if they could read my thoughts and feelings, even if they were to discover that I'm not really that different from them. I know people who love to critique and psychologically analyze others. They claim to understand people's insecurities, yet they don't necessarily sympathize with or like those people.

When Psalm 139 says that God knows us intimately, does that mean that he sympathizes with us? Or does he know us as a distant judge, one who knows our number, even as he critiques us?

There are aspects of the Christ Clones model that resonate with me, but I can't imagine myself ditching God in favor of a nebulous "god within." Even if we understand each other and solve the world's problems, there will still be an emptiness or feeling of disconnection that only God can fill (in my opinion). So many religions try to deal with human alienation. Buddhism attributes it to human attachment. Gnosticism stated that we are actually divine sparks trapped in an alien world. The ones who deny human alienation seem to be atheists, who believe that this world actually can meet people's needs. Maybe that's because they see this world as all there is, so they think it has to meet our inner desires.

I didn't entirely identify with Stephen Collins' religion. I can identify with going beyond myself, but not really with transcending nature and becoming an omnipresent, omniscient being. Does that mean that I want to be a servant of a higher power for all eternity? I'm not sure. I don't know what I want.

That brings me to a key message in Star Trek: The Motion Picture: V'Ger was looking for his creator, who could explain to it the purpose for its existence. And V'Ger wanted physical contact with the one who had made him. That's one reason many of us search for God: we want to know our purpose. And if my purpose is to serve a higher power, then that's fine with me. I'd be acting according to who I am, as God made me.

My problem is that Christianity often requires me to be something I naturally am not--a happy, happy social extrovert. I wonder what my purpose is in light of how God made me: an insecure introvert who struggles socially.

Anyway, these are my ramblings for the day.

Nova on the Bible

I just watched the Nova program on the Bible's Buried Secrets. It had on a few scholars whom I saw or met in Israel.

In terms of its perspective, it pretty much followed William Dever's ideology: minimalist on the Exodus and the Conquest, maximalist on the existence of David and Solomon. I've learned a lot of what was on it in the course of my education, but I had forgotten much of it, since I'm not a walking encyclopedia.

You know, I hate to say this, but my reaction right now is, "Who cares?" Or, rather, "Why should I care?" Look, even if the maximalists are right, what have they established that is helpful to the faith? That Solomon built a six-chambered gate? Whoopee! That doesn't have anything to do with the Hebrew Bible's religious interpretations of history. But, for whatever reason, there are conservative Christians who use maximalism to defend their religion.

There are many aspects of biblical scholarship that don't inspire me that much. I've had professors who could touch on the scholarly angle while maintaining a sensitivity to the religious dimensions of the text. But there's a lot of academia that doesn't do this. And this Nova program didn't do it either. At least Mysteries of the Bible tried. Plus, it had a better soundtrack. But, overall, I get more inspiration from watching my television shows (e.g., Waltons, Joan of Arcadia, Eli Stone, etc.) than I do from certain elements of biblical scholarship.

I think the Nova program was trying to be inspiring when it described the shift of the Jewish religion to a universalistic direction. When the exile came, it argued, the Jews found ways to relate to God outside of the Temple, such as prayer and the Sabbath. Plus they began to see their God as the creator of heaven and earth.

I'm sure they hung onto those things rather fiercely during the exile, but I'm not convinced that those things didn't exist before. Why would the Israelites have to be in exile to believe their God was the creator? The Egyptians believed an Egyptian god was the creator. The Babylonians believed that about one of their gods, Marduk. It was an ancient Near Eastern idea: my god is the one who made everything we see around us. Why couldn't the Israelites have had it before the exile?

I thought the show was a good refresher course on the Bible and archaeology. I just find that much of what it was saying doesn't matter to me anymore.

Humility, Contribution

Have you ever had a situation in which you hear all sorts of things about a particular topic in a short period of time, and you wonder if God is trying to get your attention? That has happened to me this week with respect to two topics:

1. Humility. I read about it yesterday in my AA Daily Reflection. It was the topic of my I Clement quiet time. The Waltons also touched on this issue. Yet, after all of this, I still don't know what to say about humility.

The AA Daily Reflection was about regretting our past mistakes while maintaining a healthy self-esteem. "When I ask for the power to carry out God's will for me, I am made aware of my powerlessness," it says. I Clement 8 concerned being humble before God because he's more powerful than us and we're all sinners. And the Waltons episode was about a young pastor (played by John Ritter) who vehemently preached against sin and tried to avoid the "wiles of the devil"--through cold baths, exercise, and chores. Then, he inadvertently got drunk off of the Baldwin sisters' "recipe." As a consequence, he got booted off the church's speakers' roster, and he learned that he too made mistakes.

I'm not sure what to do with all of this. I can understand my need for God, but I don't often have the faith that he will help me out. Moreover, grovelling before God because he's more powerful to me and I am a flawed human being does not appeal to me in the least--in neither inspires me nor feeds my hungry soul. And I don't really feel John Ritter was a deliberate sinner in that Waltons episode, since he wasn't aware that the recipe was moonshine (or, as the Baldwin sisters call it, "sunshine").

I guess what I walk away with is this: my thoughts sometimes scare me, and, in those times, I feel a need to draw closer to God--for comfort, for love, for nourishment at the well of goodness, and for protection from evil. We are all prone to mistakes, whether they be deliberate or inadvertent, and that's why I feel that I need God.

2. There's a woman at one of my AA meetings who always felt useless, in the sense that she didn't think she was all that helpful to others. Recently, she went to a religious retreat, and the priest told her that what she's said or written may have helped somebody else.

That coincided with a few other things in my life. On a Joan of Arcadia episode, "Secret Service," Joan doesn't understand how she's helping other people, since she doesn't always see the results of her actions. And Joan's mother, Helen, feels that she (Helen) hasn't reached any of her students as an art teacher. But both learn to have faith that their actions are touching other people, whether they realize it or not.

I thought more about this issue as I reflected on my stormy conversation with Stephen aka Q this past week, which occurred under his son Nebcanuck's post, On Abortion. Stephen argued that, in determining whether to preserve the life of the mother or the baby when a mother's life is in danger (through childbirth), we should look at the effects of our decision on both the individual and the community. After all, the biblical religions are strongly communitarian. He opted to save the life of the mother, since she has a concrete effect on an actual human network.

I asked, "But what if abortion gets rid of the next Einstein?" Stephen responded that it may also get rid of the next Manson, so such scenarios cancel themselves out. I asked, "Then what if the mother doesn't contribute much to society?" I had in mind a welfare mom who uses drugs and has babies to make more money. Stephen responded that this kind of welfare mom may still matter to people, such as her friends, her family, her children, etc. In short, we can't really say that any particular person doesn't contribute to society.

Of course, a lot of the storm was about my statement on welfare mothers, and I'm not going to try to defend that here, except to say that I wasn't intending to stereotype an entire group of people. But what I want to look at is the issue of societal contribution. When you think about it, we all contribute good and bad to the world around us. Am I personally a benefit to society? Yes, but I'm a detriment to it as well.

Let's take my blog, which is where I write things that can have an impact on others. Some of my writings are inspiring and full of faith, hope, and love. Others are cranky, complaining, and doubting in the area of faith. A person can visit my site and walk away thinking she should believe in God, while another may read a different post of mine and reach the opposite conclusion. So am I a net benefit to society? I have no idea.

But I guess that was the risk God took when he created human beings. He made us with free will, and that entails the possibility that we will make mistakes. Maybe that helps us to minister to one another as we try to walk the righteous path.

Another First

Today, I watched the first episode of the Waltons with Corabeth. Like yesterday, this was purely an accident: I put a tape in, and that's what happened to be on. I've just had a knack lately for randomly picking special Waltons episodes!

Corabeth is a cousin to the Waltons, and she's rather cultured and uppity. She knows the classics, and she speaks fluent French. I think she's somewhat conservative, since she once tried to ban sex education from the local school, and this was sex ed that said our bodies were made by God (so she's to the right of that). She can also be bigoted to people of other races and cultures, plus she's a gossip. Was Mrs. Oleson on Little House on the Prairie based on her? I don't know. Maybe. The thing is that Corabeth is not exactly a villain in the story, as Mrs. Oleson often is. She's just Corabeth!

Corabeth is married to Ike Godsey, who owns the local grocery store. She has a lot of discontent about where she's at. She had dreams of being an actress and a ballerina, of going to France, of meeting a tall, handsome suitor. But there she is--stuck in a grocery store. And she doesn't have much in common with Ike, since she loves poetry, and he's not exactly the most cultured guy on the planet. On one episode, she drank a lot because she desired her fantasy world.

But, believe it or not, she loves Ike, and Ike loves her. She informally calls Ike "Mr. Godsey" rather than by his first name, but she's always affectionate when she does so. And there are many touching episodes about their love for each other. On one, Ike tells Corabeth that he wishes she were more like his mother, or women in the old days period--the types who served their men and baked them bread. Corabeth then quits the store and resolves to become the perfect homemaker. But Ike misses Corabeth's company, not to mention her sound business practices. And so he learns to love Corabeth as Corabeth.

On another one, Corabeth encounters someone who had a crush on her in high school. He was shy back then, but now he's a dashing, handsome soldier who loves art, literature, and poetry--especially Corabeth's poetry. He tries to start a fling with her, and, indeed, she is tempted. But she decides to be faithful to Mr. Godsey. When her would-be suitor writes her a good-bye love note, Ike stumbles upon it by chance. He then asks Corabeth if they could go on a picnic, where he could hear her good poetry. He doesn't tell her he's read the other guys' note, but he resolves to be a better husband--one who takes a greater interest in Corabeth.

Today, I got to see how it all started. I'm not sure if Corabeth was originally intended to be a socialite wannabe. On her very first episode, Ike quotes George Bernard Shaw, and she doesn't know who that is. I find that hard to believe, considering how well-read she is!

And their marriage has a rocky beginning. Ike's smitten with her, even though he later has second thoughts and thinks he may actually like his life as a bachelor. And Corabeth accepts his proposal of marriage, even though she mourns doing so, and is reluctant to settle down at Walton's Mountain. They get married, but neither one does so wholeheartedly. But, over the course of the series, they come to enjoy each other's company. And old John-boy says at the end that they have their good times and their bad times.