Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem

Posted on April 14, 2019 by Brian H. Gill

Seeing Jesus as a charismatic wannabe revolutionary is possible. So is assuming that he was politically inept or stark raving mad. Maybe both.

Another option is seeing Jesus as a great teacher, one of the world’s best: in the same league as Socrates, Kapila and Confucius.

The ‘up’ side of the ‘great teacher’ view is that it acknowledges our Lord as someone who talked about ethics and made sense.

The ‘down’ side, and it’s a big one, is that Jesus of Nazareth said this:

“You do not know him, but I know him. And if I should say that I do not know him, I would be like you a liar. But I do know him and I keep his word.
“Abraham your father rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad.
“So the Jews said to him, ‘You are not yet fifty years old and you have seen Abraham?’
“Jesus said to them, ‘Amen, amen, I say to you, before Abraham came to be, I AM.'”
(John 8:55–58)

Odds are that you recognize “before Abraham came to be, I AM” as a reference to the interview Moses had with God. Folks in first century Jerusalem would have.

“‘But,’ said Moses to God, ‘if I go to the Israelites and say to them, “The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,” and they ask me, “What is his name?” what do I tell them?’
“God replied to Moses: I am who I am. Then he added: This is what you will tell the Israelites: I AM has sent me to you.”
(Exodus 3:13–14)

Viewpoints

Jesus of Nazareth claimed that he’s God. Several times.

Folks who claim they’re divine can be charismatic. Sometimes they’ll attract followers. But these days, they become celebrities or residents of psychiatric institutions.

They’re not hailed as great teachers.1

Familiarity doesn’t necessarily breed contempt — my opinion — but I strongly suspect it can deposit a bland veneer on extraordinary realities. Or bring greater appreciation of their magnificence.

And I am not going to get sidetracked by convoluted concepts of perception, cognition, recollection and a whole mess of other -tions.

Well, maybe just a few.

Perspectives

John Martin's 'Seventh Plague of Egypt' (1823)Folks living in first century Jerusalem almost certainly didn’t think of themselves as living in ancient times.

They were living in their “now.” Their homeland was a Roman province.2 (November 26, 2017)

Their ancestors had followed Moses out of Egypt a half-dozen centuries earlier. Abraham had been dead for a thousand years or so.

In my “now,” that’s about as far back as Thomas Aquinas and Odoacer. Neither of which are much like Moses and Abraham. (August 6, 2017; January 29, 2017)

A half-century back, more or less, academic types started saying that Abraham and Moses are mythic figures: maybe based on real people, maybe not.

The academics have a point. Apart from Scripture and related texts, we have precious little documentation for either of them.

That doesn’t surprise me.

Our records say that Moses went back to Egypt and had several unsatisfactory interviews with the Pharaoh. Ten “plagues” later, Pharaoh told Moses to get out and take his people with him. Pharaoh and company realized, a bit late, that a substantial chunk of Egypt’s workforce were leaving.

I’ll give Egypt’s chief executive credit for flexible decision-making.

Taking what sounds like a substantial part of his army, including at least one elite unit, Pharaoh chased after Abraham’s descendants: catching up with them as they were crossing a large body of water.

Maybe the Pharaoh survived the encounter. Maybe not. Either way, he’d lost part of his workforce and his army. That’s in Exodus 5 through 14.

Back-to-back national disasters topped off by evicting valuable workers and obliterating his own army isn’t in any Pharaoh’s official annals.

Maybe the Hebrews made up the whole thing, or maybe something else.

Perceptions

Ancient Egyptian leaders had a habit of documenting their accomplishments on durable media.

There’s a remarkably complete record of glorious victories and magnificent public works. Crushing defeats and disastrous mismanagement, not so much.

That’s not surprising. Like most ancient rulers, Pharaohs used their official records the way we use press releases. Historians, serious ones, have been learning to piece together what actually happened by analyzing more practical documents, like invoices.

I’ve run across plausible explanations for each of the ten Egyptian plagues. I won’t claim that they couldn’t have been what we call natural phenomena. If so, they were remarkably well-timed.3

The ‘crossing the Red Sea’ incident is a bit less obviously a colossal bit of good luck. Not if what’s described in Exodus 14:10–29 is somewhat accurate.

In a way, I can’t blame today’s scholars for assuming that the Exodus events are make-believe. Nothing quite like them has happened since.

Nobody quite like Jesus has shown up, either. There’s been no shortage of folks claiming that they’re Jesus, and that’s another topic for another day.

My opinion is what Simon Peter said:

“When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’
“They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’
“He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’
“Simon Peter said in reply, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.'”
(Matthew 16:13–16)

Jesus Christ, Superstar?

Our Lord’s behavior and off-the-charts popularity gave the powers that be good reason for concern.

Pharisees and Sadducees were the most influential folks in Judea.

Rome’s provincial boss had considerable clout, too. He had troops and imperial backing, which arguably reduced his grass roots support.

Pharisees and Sadducees, I’m back to those good old boys now, had reason for concern.

Jesus of Nazareth, a nobody from a squeedunk village, was enormously popular. ‘The masses’ were listening to the Nazarene: not the established good old boys.

Then Jesus started talking crazy.

Like the time our Lord said that he’d give eternal life to folks who eat his flesh and drink his blood. That’s in John 6:51–60.

Some folks who’d been following Jesus started edging away after that, understandably. But some didn’t. (November 20, 2016)

Just what the Pharisees and Sadducees needed: an off-the-charts superstar lunatic acting like he wanted to seize power. No, like he had seized power.

A Triumphal Entry

We’re celebrating Palm Sunday this week.4

It’s when we remember Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Which I think sounds a bit odd, since our Lord was riding a critter we see as pack animals, or a mount for folks who can’t afford a horse.

From that viewpoint, our Lord’s ride displays great humility. Sort of like a dignitary arriving in a pickup.

That’s how I’d probably see it. If I didn’t realize that cultures aren’t all alike. And that change happens.

Variables and Constants

Nearly two millennia have rolled by since our Lord rode into Jerusalem.

Folks living in 1st century Jerusalem weren’t all that different from me and my neighbors here in 21st century Minnesota.

We share humanity’s strengths, weaknesses and “transcendent dignity.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 396–409, 1929, 1934–1938)

We’re not exactly alike, either.

Folks in 1st century Jerusalem had grown up with the ancient Middle East’s cultures. Shepherds, donkeys, horses and all were as familiar to them as factory workers, VIPs, pickups and limousines are to us.

Back then, rulers on a peaceful visit arrived riding an ass, not a horse. Today’s equivalent might be riding in an escorted limousine.

A Middle Eastern king riding a horse would be at the head of an army, trying to conquer the city or taking possession. In today’s world, national leaders generally aren’t physically leading their troops into battle; and that’s yet another topic.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John each describe our Lord’s triumphal entry. The accounts don’t quite match up, by contemporary Western standards.

We read that Jesus rode an ass, a colt, and an ass’s colt. Folks waved palm branches and/or spread their cloaks on the road.5

I could let that upset me, or decide the discrepancies mean the events didn’t happen. Or I could figure that folks with related but different points to make, living in a culture that’s not just like mine, might describe them in different ways. That makes more sense to me.

Fronds and Crosses

Palm fronds are part of this Sunday’s celebration, in this area anyway. Folks take a few home with them, folding them into crosses. The style varies from family to family.

My wife introduced me to a tradition that she learned from her father.

My understanding is that he’d learned the technique as a cowboy in the Dakotas. If we used leather instead of palm fronds, we’d end up with a wonderfully flexible lanyard. As it is, we get something resembling a St. Andrew’s Cross. And that’s — what else? — yet again another topic.

“Good news of great joy,” two millennia and counting:

1 Philosophers, celebrities and lunatics:

2 Our past, their “now:”

3 Phenomena, natural and otherwise:

4 More about Palm Sunday:

5 Two triumphal entries:

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Be Not Afraid of Geekness

Posted on April 6, 2019 by Brian H. Gill

I’m one of those folks who read dictionaries for fun. If I had more finely-tuned social skills, I might be a geek. I’ve been told I’m a nerd. I won’t deny it.

Which reminded me of Malvolio’s words of wisdom. Or, rather, my paraphrase:

“Be not afraid of geekness: some men are born geeks, some achieve geekness and some have geekness thrust upon them.”
(From Apathetic Lemming of the North; April 15, 2011. Apologies to William Shakespeare.1)

(The 12-panel ‘geeks and nerds’ cartoon was made in 2009 by someone using 909sickle as a screen name. Or maybe a company name. I don’t know who he, she, or they is/are.)

Fatuous Fashions

There are worse fates than being a geek, a nerd, or some combination thereof.

Consider, if you will, the life of a fashion model: consigned to wear phantasmagoria made manifest.

Like those accordion pants.

On the ‘up’ side, reconnaissance reports from fashion’s ragged fringe gave someone material for his blog:

Not that being a fashion model is basically wrong. Or a fashion designer, or someone who’s interested in fashions.

If I made keeping up with current fashion my reason for life, that would be a problem.

Top priority is where God belongs. Putting anything or anyone else there, even good things or people, is a bad idea. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2112–2114)

About the weird suit with the accordion pants, I don’t see it as a problem. Maybe someone could argue that resources spent on making it should have been spent on something else.2

I haven’t run across anyone going ballistic over fashion, particularly women’s fashion, recently. Maybe kvetching over fashion is unfashionable now, and that’s another topic.

Or maybe not so much. News and op-eds featuring the Kardashians and other glamorous types suggests that modest and fashionable are still near-antonyms. For high-end women’s wear, at any rate. High-end isn’t the problem. Not by itself. (Catechism, 1934–1938)

Fatuous fashion choices don’t make talking about modesty any easier. The Catholic version, which involves human dignity and cultural standards. (Catechism, 2521–2524)

Labels

Where was I?

Geeks, nerds, Shakespeare, phantasms from fashion’s ragged fringe. Right.

Maybe I’m a nerd. Or a geek. Or, more likely, both: a neek, maybe? Or a gerd??

Maybe so. Like I said, I won’t deny it.

I’m als0 pretty sure I’m not in the intersection of geeks and nerds. I’ve got opinions about a whacking great number of things, including Venn diagrams: but not strong opinions on geek-nerd distinctions.

As I see it, labels like “geek” and “nerd” matter. So do labels for other aspects of my existence: my height, cradle language, social status, zip code, musical preferences and thousands of other factors. More.

None of those fully define what I am, much less who I am. But labels come in handy, particularly when I’m trying to figure out what I should do next, how I should do it and whether it’s even possible. Not necessarily in that order.

Happiness?

Maybe dictionaries, definitions, philology, metaphysics and how many nerds it takes to change a light bulb don’t seem particularly spiritual.

Certainly not if being spiritual means getting fired up by the latest feel-good faith. Or becoming a pious party-pooper.

‘Uplifting’ stuff arguably feels better than old-school fire and brimstone. Until the buzz wears off, anyway.

Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting to be happy. It’s part of being human, along with a desire for the infinite and openness to truth and beauty. All of which comes from God. (Catechism, 33, 1718–1719)

Basically, wanting happiness is okay. When I remember where to look:

“BEATIFIC VISION: The contemplation of God in heavenly glory, a gift of God which is a constitutive element of the happiness (or beatitude) of heaven (1028, 1720).”

“HAPPINESS: Joy and beatitude over receiving the fulfillment of our vocation as creatures: a sharing in the divine nature and the vision of God. God put us into the world to know, love, and serve him, and so come to the happiness of paradise (1720).”
(Glossary, Catechism of the Catholic Church)

Expecting a giddy, party-every-day feeling isn’t reasonable. Not on a regular basis. Certainly not for someone like me. And that’s yet another topic. (July 2, 2017)

The Edwards Legacy

Then there’s the Edwards legacy:

“…every unconverted Man properly belongs to Hell….”
“…The God that holds you over the Pit of Hell, much as one holds a Spider, or some loathsome Insect, over the Fire, abhors you….”
“…you will be wholly lost and thrown away of God….”
(“Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” pp. 6, 9, 15, 18; Jonathan Edwards (July 8, 1741) (via Digital Commons@University of Nebraska-Lincoln))

I’m not sure why calling someone a “loathsome Insect” has been so popular.

Maybe it’s connected to seeing God as a supercharged Zeus. With anger management issues. (January 19, 2018; November 19, 2017; September 10, 2017)

That, and morphing fear of God into being scared silly of the Almighty, are problems we’ve had ever since the first of us made a very poor choice. (Catechism, 29, 399, 2144)

Verbal abuse, religious and otherwise, happens. That doesn’t make it right. I’d be concerned about someone who enjoys it. Fashionable melancholy’s in the mix too, and that’s yet again another topic. Topics. (January 8, 2018; October 8, 2017; May 12, 2017)

Quirks and Dignity

Getting back to labels and being human: I’m pretty close to average height, and my features are about what you’d expect in someone with my ancestry.

I’m ‘normal’ — that way.

The way my brain works is another matter. (March 19, 2017; July 31, 2016)

My neural quirks have labels like Asperger’s and autism spectrum disorder. I figure they’ll have different labels as we learn more about non-standard brain functions.

Whatever they’re called, how I deal with them is up to me.

One option would be fretting about not being normal. Or pretending that there’s nothing non-standard about me. Neither seems reasonable.

I’ve got the dignity that comes with being human, just like everyone else. In that sense, I’m “normal.” In another sense, I suspect that nobody’s “normal.”

Maybe some are closer to the 50th percentile in more ways than most, but we’re not all alike. We’re not supposed to be. (Catechism, 1934–1938)

A Sticky Mind and 1 Corinthians 12

I’ve got a sticky mind: a knack for remembering words and facts.

Not important facts like birthdays, anniversaries and deadlines.

It’s part of the kit God gave me.

My contribution has been developing my talents, paying attention to this wonder-filled universe, and sharing my appreciation for God’s handiwork.

Last month’s Catholic Charismatic Renewal retreat started me thinking about talents and charisms: and how little I know about that sort of thing.

Apart from what’s in the second chapter of Acts and 1 Corinthians 12. And that’s still more topics, for another day.

Vaguely-related posts:

1 Geeks, nerds and Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night:”

2 Consumption, within reason:

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New Blogroll Link

Posted on March 26, 2019 by Brian H. Gill

Disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, A Franciscan Charismatic Religious Community, is now on my blogroll. It’s listed under ‘Official’ websites.

I’ve mentioned charisms, gifts of the Holy Spirit, a few times. But not often:

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A High Standard

Posted on March 18, 2019 by Brian H. Gill

Three folks on a streetcar in Utrecht, Netherlands, didn’t get off. Not alive.

Someone, maybe the man in that picture, killed them.

He’s been caught, apparently no more bodies have been found, and that’s as much as I know so far. Know for sure, anyway.

This incident grabbed my attention, partly because it’s been happening in the Netherlands: one of my wife’s ancestral homelands. Instead of trying to focus on something else, I decided to share what I’ve been reading — and some odd speculation.

Feelings Happen

I’m not, putting it mildly, happy about Friday’s mass murder in New Zealand or today’s streetcar killings in the Netherlands.

But my being angry or scared won’t help anyone, or change what happened.

There’s nothing wrong with the emotions, by themselves. Trouble starts if I let the feelings take over. (June 13, 2018)

I wrote most of what follows before Utrecht police said they’d caught the suspect in today’s killings. Instead of going back and re-writing the post, or starting over, I’ve left the thing pretty much as I wrote it.

Death on a Streetcar


(From PolitieUtrecht/Twitter, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(“Police released this image of Gokmen Tanis”
(BBC News))

Utrecht shootings: Hunt for gunman after attack on tram
BBC News (March 18, 2019)

“Three people have been killed following a shooting on a tram in the central Dutch city of Utrecht, the city’s mayor says.

“Nine others were injured in the incident, which police say appears to be a terrorist attack.

“Police are looking for a 37-year-old Turkish man named as Gokmen Tanis and have warned people not to approach him….”

“Utrecht Shooting: Gunman Kills 3 People On Dutch Tram In Possible Terrorist Attack”
NPR (March 18, 2019)

“…Details are still emerging about the incident, which took place around 10:45 a.m. local time (5:45 a.m. ET).

“The Netherlands has been shaken by the attack, Prime Minister Mark Rutte said in a televised news conference.

“‘An act of terror is an attack on our open and tolerant society,’ Rutte said, according to NPO Radio. ‘If it is an act of terror, there is only one answer: our rule of law and democracy is stronger than violence.’…”

The killings happened when the streetcar was at or near the 24 Oktoberplein stop.

It could have been much worse.

Maybe it is, or will be.

Police haven’t found the man they think killed those folk. Utrecht’s population is around a third of a million, so he needn’t run short of targets. Not unless he’s picky about who he kills.

A Dutch anti-terrorism official said that attacks happened at other locations, but didn’t say where. News from Utrecht is, understandably, a trifle sketchy.

Another disturbing possibility is that a pile of bodies somewhere in the city hasn’t been found yet.

Assumptions


(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)

Utrecht officials and news media figured this morning’s carnage was terrorism: not in the generic ‘actions causing or related to terror’ sense, but the more specific sociopolitical definition. That seems to have been the default assumption, at any rate.

Whatever the motive, the attack or attacks stopped Utrecht streetcar service and political activities connected with this month’s provincial elections. Authorities evacuated the city’s mosques and schools are closed.

For all I knew this morning, Gokmen Tanis might be completely innocent. Maybe the killings were a disgruntled student’s way of declaring a school holiday. Or someone wanted another day’s preparation for an election debate. And Mr. Tanis was hiding somewhere: considering whether it’s safer to turn himself in, or flee the city.

Motives, Probable and Otherwise


(From Google Maps, used w/o permission.)
(Utrecht’s 24 Oktoberplein tram junction, on a bright blue October day in 2018.)

The disgruntled student or desperate candidate scenarios might make a nifty conspiracy theory, but I’d be astonished if either was true.

Without more information than what little I’ve seen, “terrorism” is a likely motive. Quite possibly the sort with a particular religion-themed ideology.

Or maybe the motive is a trifle more eccentric.

The attacker may be a sensitive architect, driven to desperation by the bourgeois banality of the 24 Oktoberplein’s facades. Or someone enraged that Utrecht recently added streetcar service to its traditional bus routes.1

Perhaps an owner of the nearby driving school feared that public transportation would put him out of business.

Or maybe other nearby businesses are involved. Perhaps vegetarian options at the Thai Orchid offended a gourmet. Or someone seethed with fury at inadequate service at the hair salon or furniture store took out their frustration on commuters. All three business are within a few blocks of the junction, on Admiraal Helfrichlaan.

None of those motives make murder okay. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2268–2269)

Killing an innocent person was among the ‘you shall nots’ of the Decalogue. Our Lord said that cherishing anger and hurling insults were wrong, too. (Exodus 20:13; Leviticus 19:18; Deuteronomy; Matthew 5:21–26; Catechism, 2262)

“But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, and whoever says to his brother, ‘Raqa,’ will be answerable to the Sanhedrin, and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ will be liable to fiery Gehenna.”
(Matthew 5:22)

The ‘no grudges’ idea wasn’t new. Just one that keeps getting lost in the shuffle.

“Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your fellow countrymen. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.”
(Leviticus 19:18)

Friday’s mass murder in Christchurch and today’s deaths on a streetcar don’t affect me personally. Dismissing whatever anger I’ve felt about the incidents is easy. Or maybe not.

Maybe I didn’t dismiss the anger so much as diverted it. That could explain the weirdly-improbable motives I imagined. That’s something I should think about.

On the other hand, I’m not concerned enough to hit the ‘delete’ key. Maybe they’re examples of emotionally-appealing but irrational motives. Or evidence that I’ve got a ripply sense of humor. Maybe both.

And maybe a family fracas sparked the killings:

Forgiveness

(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)

“Christchurch shootings: Stories of heroism emerge from attacks”
BBC News (March 17, 2019)

“Stories of heroism have emerged from Friday’s attacks at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, in which 50 people died and dozens were wounded.

“A worshipper says he confronted the gunman and threw a credit card reader at him.

“Two police officers, one of them armed with only a handgun, chased and arrested Brenton Tarrant, 28.

“The suspect had explosives in his car and was planning more attacks that day, said Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern….”

Friday’s mass murder, bad as it was, could have been much worse. Folks at the Linwood mosque say Abdul Aziz saved lives there when he threw a credit card machine at the attacker, who shot back. And missed.

Others died while trying to stop the attacker, or helping others get away.

“…Farid Uddin said his wife had helped several women and children escape from the building as the attack unfolded.

“‘We feel proud of what she did. She died in a good cause. She did exactly what she loved and what I loved,’ he told the BBC.

“‘I lost my wife but I don’t hate the killer. As a person I love him,’ he added. ‘I forgive him… I pray for him.’…”

Since I think only God can forgive sins, lambasting Mr. Uddin for daring to forgive his wife’s killer is an option. But not, I think, a reasonable one.

I think only God can forgive sins and that Jesus said we should forgive others. (Luke 11:1–4; Catechism, 1441, 2759)

Books have been written, parsing exactly what “forgive” can mean. I’ll opine that the word, in my language and in this context, has a whole mess of nuances: and leave it at that.

Saving Lives


(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(“No words to describe the pain”
(BBC News))

“…The video showed 50-year-old Naeem Rashid, originally from the Pakistani city of Abbottabad, apparently trying to tackle the gunman before being shot. He was taken to hospital but later died.

“‘There were a few witnesses who said he saved a few lives by trying to stop that guy,’ his brother Khurshid Alam told the BBC. ‘It’s our pride now, but still the loss. It’s like cutting your limb off.’…”
(BBC News)

I think there’s much to be learned from the example set by Farid Uddin and Khurshid Alam. And this excerpt from Sirach —

“Forgive your neighbor the wrong done to you;
then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.
“Does anyone nourish anger against another
and expect healing from the LORD?”
(Sirach 28:2–4)

I’ve talked about this sort of thing before:

1 Background:

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Christchurch: Headcam at the Mosques

Posted on March 16, 2019 by Brian H. Gill

You’ve almost certainly seen the news by now. Someone killed more than four dozen folks at a Friday afternoon prayer meeting in Christchurch, New Zealand.

One attack was east of the city’s center, the other west. Both were about a mile from Cathedral Square.

The Bangladesh Cricket team were on their way to one of the prayer meetings. They hadn’t quite arrived when the killing started. They’re a bit rattled, but otherwise okay.

The cricketers weren’t the only ones who had their day disrupted. Christchurch authorities stopped a climate change rally in Cathedral Square and put the city’s schools in lockdown.1

The attacker’s identity was obvious, at least in 20-20 hindsight. He identified himself by name, and livestreamed video of at least one attack from his headcam.

I noticed familiar angles in today’s news and op-eds covering the attacks:

That’s understandable. Even if some outfit managed to get all the facts and discussed how they’d affect — or might affect — everyone, I doubt that anyone would read the result. Maybe a few news wonks, with entirely too much time on their hands.

I’ve got an angle or two, myself.

Dead or Missing


(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(“A floral tribute on Linwood Avenue, near one of the mosques that was targeted”
(BBC News))

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”
(Romans 12:15)

I’m not sure which would be less pleasant: knowing that someone in my family had been killed, or knowing only that he or she is missing and might be dead or injured.

Either way, I’d almost certainly prefer knowledge to uncertainty. From the trouble taken to update missing persons lists, I’d say that others share my preference:

‘Weeping with those who weep’ is easier for me in cases like this, where I can identify with the mourners. Maybe that needs an explanation.

Fear

I’m a Christian, a Catholic. From some viewpoints, I’d be expected to see Muslims as enemy threats.

I don’t, partly because respecting other religions is a good idea. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 839–845, 2104)

And partly because I’m a Catholic, living in a country where some folks may still see us as minions of a foreign power.

There’s a little truth behind that fear. The pope isn’t an American. I can’t vote for or against an amendment to the Decalogue, or even collect signatures for a referendum on trans-species marriage.

I could, actually. And that’s anther topic.

But, undemocratic and un-American as it is, I’m pretty sure “Romanism” won’t engulf this fair land in its tentacles of tyranny, superstition, bigotry and ignorance.

I figure many Muslims living in America and New Zealand take their faith as seriously as I do. Particularly those who let themselves be seen following their religious practices.

Not that I’d hope to convince stalwart defenders of ‘their’ country that Islam and Muslims are no more a threat than creeping Catholicism and Papists with too many kids.

Not Missing ‘the Good Old Days’


(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)

The attacker’s livestream video apparently went straight to his Facebook account. Folks who share his attitude promptly shared it in assorted social media.

I think there’s a lesson or two here, and it’s not that civilization is doomed unless we limit social media content to material screened by right-minded officials.

I don’t even think that social media, the Internet, guns or motor-driven vehicles make people behave badly.

Turning our thoughts into actions is easier with technology. Whether we help or hurt each other? That’s up to us. (February 4, 2018; January 28, 2018)

Online social media didn’t exist until a few decades back.

The technology and its developing social structures let me communicate with folks I’d never meet otherwise.

Some share my viewpoints, many don’t. For me, that’s nothing new. Or disturbing, by itself. Some of the attitudes I see are another matter.

I’d much prefer living in a world where pretty much everyone didn’t act as if “different” and “evil” were synonyms. And saw other folks as neighbors, not foreign threats. That’s not how things are in today’s world.

It’s not how they were in my ‘good old days,’ either.

Maybe it was easier to ignore everything that wasn’t in the nightly news or discussed during coffee breaks.

But it was harder to learn what editors hadn’t selected for the day’s network news and national news services. As I keep saying, I don’t miss ‘the good old days.’

And I sure don’t want a world where only the ‘right’ folks are allowed to express opinions. Even if the information gatekeepers said they had only my best interests in mind. That’s a can of worms for another day.

Love and Dignity

I’ll wrap this up with a few points I’ve made before. Often.

I should love God and my neighbors — and see everyone as my neighbor. Everyone. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31, 10:25–37; Catechism, 1789)

I think human life is precious, sacred. (Catechism, 2258)

We each have equal dignity. That’s true, no matter how we act, who we are or where we live. (Catechism, 360, 1700–1706, 1932–1933, 1935)

I also think working together makes more sense than the alternative:

“…We must overcome our fear of the future. But we will not be able to overcome it completely unless we do so together. The ‘answer’ to that fear is neither coercion nor repression, nor the imposition of one social ‘model’ on the entire world. The answer to the fear which darkens human existence at the end of the twentieth century is the common effort to build the civilization of love, founded on the universal values of peace, solidarity, justice, and liberty….”
(“To the United Nations Organization,” St. John Paul II (October 5, 1995))

Maybe I’ll say more about what happened in Christchurh yesterday, when there’s more information and I’ve got more time.

Meanwhile, here’s the usual list of somewhat-related posts:

1 Background:

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