Friday, February 26, 2010

Introduction To Musings II – Second Section

December 1991

Introduction To Musings II – Second Section

As noted in previous “Musings,” these are my expressions of fact and opinion. I can cite the sources of what is written as factual. The opinions and convictions are mine. Your views may differ. Whatever may be our unlike conclusions, we all gain in the process of examining our values, goals, and interpretations of our living experience. I am not at all abashed that I “write with more will than skill.” (To quote Apuleius)

To take one tiny step for ecology, if you want the next “Musings”, let me know. Thereby we won’t save a tree, but maybe a twig or two.

I’ll be thinking of all of you as another year ends and a new one begins. I wish profoundly that 1992 will be laced with your health and happiness.

Carl J. Westman

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Protests And Patriotism

February 8, 1991

Two predictable events happen when our nation goes to war: first, there will be protests, marches, and demonstrations; second, there will be angry reactions by those who believe that to protest a war is both unpatriotic and damaging to the morale of our service men and women. In the climate of such conflicting passions, an observation by Oscar Wilde started my reflections on this division in our nation, “The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

The protesters do not comprise a united movement with the same goals and motives. Some are pacifists who strongly believe any war is wrong. Some who may not be pacifists are motivated by the conviction that Desert Storm was premature because persistent diplomatic efforts and continued sanctions could have reached a solution without war. Some protesters are “anti-establishment” who believe our government has been wrong in many declared and undeclared wars, including the present war with Iraq. Others hold that the reasons stated for war with Iraq are blurred and vague. Still others believe this is a war for oil – its price, distribution, and profits; and not worth the blood and suffering of international conflict.

Those who resent and condemn protesters are a majority; there is little question about that. War spirit always captures most Americans. Serious doubts and searching questions are both ignored and condemned. To raise issues is considered a “slap in the face” of our armed forces who confront death and destruction in a far-away land. One person wrote that such protests and demonstrations are “trashing the soldiers.”

What seems to be overlooked is the common ground shared by these two factions. Both earnestly seek that our service men and women come home without heavy casualties and free from a burden of guilt, to resume their normal lives in safety. The methods so differ, however, the majority would approve limiting the speech of the anti-war protesters and their freedom to assemble peacefully to publicize their anti-war convictions.

But basic to our Constitution is the right of a minority to state opinions contrary to the majority and voice opposition to official government policies and actions.

Many people are familiar with Lord Acton’s dictum about “power.” Less well-known, but equally true, is what he wrote about “liberty” (in his essay “History of Freedom in Antiquity”):

“By liberty I mean the assurance that every man shall be protected in doing what he believes his duty against the influence of authority and majorities, customs and opinions.... The most certain test by which we judge whether a country is really free is the amount of security enjoyed by minorities.”

What can we possibly win if we lose that liberty?

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Not For Your Comfort

January 29, 1991

As the images flickered on the tube, reflecting censored versions of the operations of Desert Storm and the Iraq enemy, I recalled a clause from Scripture, “there is no discharge from war.”

The words come from the Wisdom Literature of the Jewish Scriptures. In the 2nd or 3rd century B.C.E., a wise writer, but hardly optimistic, reflected on the human condition. He is identified as Ecclesiastes, (“preacher” in the Greek), Koheleth, (“leader of an assembly” in the Hebrew). This comment appears in the 8th verse of the 8th chapter: (RSV)

“No man has the power to retain the spirit,
or the authority over the day of death; there is
no discharge from war, nor will wickedness
deliver those who are given to it.”

Moffatt translates the verse this way:

“NO man can hold the winds in check or control
the day of death; in war there is no furlough
and wrong is no shield for wrongdoers.”

There is no discharge from war, even though fond hopes and millions of prayers earnestly petition that victory will arrive quickly, Saddam Hussein crushed, and our men and women brought home to be honored by a nation grateful for their courage, loyalty, discipline and skill. But there will be no discharge in war. (I write as one who still believes sanctions against [Iraq] should have remained in force for a much longer period.

There will be no discharge for the dead, soldiers from the United States, United Kingdom, France, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and the other allies and the dead in Iraq. Soldiers, airmen, sailors, marines, civilians – will the victory have been worth the lives of those who died? Being human and patriotic, we will count and mourn our dead. We won’t grieve overmuch about the civilians who perished in the desert war, will we? The difficult recovery from death and damage will be far away. (We may allot billions of dollars to repair and restore the destruction caused in winning.)

There will be no discharge from war for our veterans who come back with battle wounds from which they may never recover. As they spend their lives maimed or ill, how many will be bitter that their loyal service was a life sentence?

There will be no discharge from war for those who return dislocated in mind, emotion or family life, traumatized by the experience of what they saw, what they did and what they knew others did.

There will be no discharge from war for the many species of marine and bird life perishing in the Gulf as a result of Iraq’s opening the valves and poisoning the waters with millions of gallons of oil.

There will be no discharge from military responsibility when the war ends. We have had forces in Germany for 45 years, in Korea for almost 40 years. Will the responsibility of victory keep service men and women in the scorching desert for decades, too?

There will be no discharge from the mammoth debts incurred in the war. No one seems to be giving any serious thought as to how we pay. Contributions from Japan, Germany, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait will be substantial, but our national deficit will be even more of a serious threat. Will we face the problem openly and realistically? Or, will we, in the words of some Southern politician, say, “Don’t tax me, don’t tax thee, tax that fellow behind the tree.”

There is no discharge from war. Whatever and whenever the outcome, the burden will be heavy. The human family carries the pain, scars, and deaths uncountable from the unending wars which seem the main theme of the opus of history. Can we change the raucous, deadly discords to some harmony? Perhaps, if the world players persistently rehearse the same score, with determination, understanding, skill, cooperation and, I hope, with some touch of humor. That might indeed be a New World Symphony.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Taxes And Death

January 8, 1991

An unarguable cliché continually going the rounds is that two events are inevitable – death and taxes. The cliché is a truism, of course. However, what is provoking my thoughts in these comments on the cliché is, what kind of taxes, what kind of death? Thus, a brief comment on one Revolution and more extended observations on another: the American Revolution and the French Revolution.

In hindsight, eventual freedom for the American colonies seems inevitable, but the struggle for independence would have lasted many more years, perhaps generations, had it not been for French assistance. In 1781, when Washington’s army on land and the French fleet in Chesapeake Bay bottled up Cornwallis at Yorktown, American independence was assured. We did not forget. When the A.E.F. reached France in World War I, the debt was recognized dramatically when General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing, placed a wreath at the tomb of Lafayette with the words, “Lafayette, we are here.”

Less well-known, but also substantial, was the assistance of Dutch shipping, bringing arms and supplies to the struggling Colonists. The late Barbara Tuchman writes this part of our history with knowledge, eloquence, and appreciation in her book, THE FIRST SALUTE.

But in no small degree, the aid France gave to us was a substantive addition to the complex of conditions that sparked the French Revolution. In his instructive history, CITIZENS, A CHRONICLE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, Simon Schama illuminates these circumstances.

Huge debt, the consequence of wars, along with bureaucratic indolence and corruption, had placed France in a precarious financial position when Louis XVI was crowned in 1775. The War of the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War with England (1756-1763), which we call the French and Indian War, had caused huge financial drains on France, not to mention the profligacy of the King and his court.

Thus, when the French decided to help the American Colonies win freedom from England, the government of Louis XVI was already immersed in overwhelming debt. Yet in 1781 alone, France expended 227 million livres on the American campaign. The French government borrowed most of the money by way of external and internal loans. By the year 1788, interest on France’s debts was consuming fifty percent of all current revenues.

The financial crisis was deepened by a taxation system, the Farmers General, a syndicate of politically-powerful men. ... As Schama describes, “Every six years the Crown contracted with the syndicate to advance a specific sum for the right to collect indirect taxes” – salt, leather, ironware, soap, wine. Added to the revenue were customs duties from one zone to another. The profit of the Farmers General was a secret. Farmers General had quasi-governmental powers, had an armed force of twenty-one thousand, with the right to enter households and establishments to search and seize property of persons they suspected of avoiding taxes. When the Revolution came, “these blood-suckers” were called to account. In 1794, a group of the Farmers General went to the guillotine.

Conditions had become more desperate as drought reduced the grain crop, cattle disease struck, and greedy profiteers raised the price of bread to unconscionable levels. Angry resentment, hunger, poverty, bankruptcy, ignited the Revolution. The ideals and slogan, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity came later.

Historical analogies break down readily, but there are sobering references. France did not play a crucial role in the American Revolution just because they wanted the Colonies to be a free nation. That was true of Lafayette, but not of the French Crown and its ministers. England and France had been at war for centuries, off and on. France thirsted for revenge and the recovery of possessions lost to England in the Seven Years (French and Indian) War. The governing principle was “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” But that principle, applied, was a strong factor in the bankruptcy of the French nation.

In our U.S.A., our national debt has reached proportions that economists, some of them at least, are predicting disastrous consequences. Much talent and treasure has been spent financing nations and movements which are, or seem to be, enemies of our enemies. We supported the rebels (Contras) in Nicaragua because they claimed to be anti-communist or anti-Sandinista. We support the government in El Salvador because THEIR rebels were proclaimed to be pro-communist. Now in Arabian deserts, we have posted 350,000 of our army, air and naval forces. War with Iraq seems imminent. What the cost in American and other lives will be is unknown, but it will be a deep and lasting sorrow. Financially, guesses are that if war comes, $30 billion will be needed in 1991, and some estimates are one billion dollars a day. Given the huge deficit that already exists, could our whole nation become impoverished, bankrupt?

A revolution here as savage and murderous as the French Revolution appears highly unreal. Violence and revenge in the streets seems unlikely to be caused by a shortage of bread or even staggering inflation. Cumbersome as our systems of Federal, State, County and Municipal taxations are, a comparison with the Farmers General would be wide of the mark. Nevertheless, there will be a bill, sometime, for the immense obligations for which we have contracted. Who will pay? All of us. Perhaps enough integrity and common-sense will prevail, to the end that in spite of lobbies, special interest groups and political blocs, the burdens will be fairly shared. But not if, the adage of the French aristocracy, “apres moi le deluge” is the mood of that time of reckoning.

Monday, February 22, 2010

The Cosmos And The Human Condition

December 1990
Musings 1991

The vast reaches of our universe overpower the most fertile imaginations. In October, a news story reported the discovery of the largest galaxy: Abell 2029 has more than 100 trillion stars, dwarfing “our” Milky Way galaxy which has “only” about 3 billion stars. Abell 2029 is a cluster of about 1000 galaxies, each with billions of stars. Abell 2029 is about one billion light-years away. In one of our calendar years, a light-year travels 5.89 trillion miles. One billion multiplied by nearly 6 trillion!! Can you honestly say that you comprehend that mathematical stunner? I can’t. Our Sun is a glowing mass that lights, feeds and warms our planet Earth. The Sun is a star so bright we can only for a moment gaze at it directly. Can you grasp at all that there are trillions of stars like our Sun?

In COSMOS, Carl Sagan wrote that our Sun is eight light-minutes distant. A “near” star, Beta Andromeda is 75 light-years from us. If it blew itself up, we would not know for 75 years. Should we receive a message from a planet in a distant solar system, it is possible that the life form that sent it will have been extinct for millions of years by the time the message reaches Earth. Similarly, if Voyagers I and II are interpreted by another life form, thousands or millions of light-years hence, our civilization will have been extinct and our planet a cinder or cloud of gas for millions of years by that time. The discovery of Abell 2029 informs the astro-physicists and astronomers of what these billions of stars were a billion years ago. What may have happened in a billion years? Are such times and distances within the capacity of the human mind?

Present scientific thought places the origin of the universe, the Big Bang, 10 to 20 billions of years ago. Perhaps accepted theories of “how” may develop. But I submit to you that there may never be a widely acceptable answer to “Why?” there was a Big Bang at all. Why is there something rather than nothing? I guess I have quoted J.B.S. Haldane to about everyone I know, “The universe is not only queerer than you suppose; it is queerer than you CAN suppose.”

I remember a cartoon showing a bear emerging from hibernation in Spring, looking at the green leaves and buds, saying, “Some year I'm going to stay up and see how those leaves get back on the trees.” I have a hunch like that about the universe. There may be a gap in our knowledge and methods, leaving us ignorant of some astonishing, amazing process (reality, force, perception) of which, perhaps, we can never know, let alone understand.

After all, isn’t it true that we have imposed our human dimensions and perceptions on the universe? Math, astronomy, optics, telemetry, Red Shift, and all the other tools of science assumptions are learnings, definitions, and conclusions acquired in human history. However challenging, persuasive, winsome, or comforting scientific research may be, it is an achievement of men and women on planet Earth. There is no evidence that if there are life forms on distant planets that their scientific ways are those tracked out for us here by Pythagoras, Euclid, Galileo, Einstein, Hawking, and the multitudes of others who have established, refined, experimented, and enlarged our knowledge. Perhaps in the unreachable depths of space, some beings communicate by singing, as do our great ocean creatures, the whales, or by dancing messages as a swarm of bees. Nietzsche once wrote, “... physics, too, is only an interpretation of the world and an arrangement of it (to suit ourselves, if I may say so!) and not an explanation.”

But the arduous difficulty of mentally comprehending the mystery does not preclude the feelings of awe and wonder as we bask in the Sun’s warmth or behold the beauty of the heavens on a clear, star-gemmed night. Sara Teasdale had poetic lines:

“And I know that I
am honored to be
Witness of so much
Majesty.”

The poet capitalizes “Majesty” – awarding, presumably, Divinity to the beautiful skyscape. For me, the lines are aesthetic, not theological. The theologues have posited a Creator who was First Cause or Uncaused Cause. Uncaused Cause is a leap of faith, but grammatically it is an oxymoron. Theologians, most of them, proclaim an additional assumption that this Creator has a singular devotion to the humans on this planet, providing them with the assurance of salvation upon performance of rites, testimonies, repentance, sacrifice, belief, or sacraments.

I have no quarrel with the vast majority of persons who make this leap of faith. Faith, by definition, is belief without convincing evidence for its truth. Faith is not fact. Otherwise, why so many different faiths? Persons are inspired, comforted, freed from fear, or solaced in hardship by believing that God will “wipe away the tears.” If you have that religious trust, my agnostic inquiries will not weaken your faith. But, as one of a tiny minority, I perceive formidable obstacles to holding such a faith.

First, there is not much that convinces me that a God, Creator, Allah, Yahveh, Trinity, Force (insert your own name for it) has any unique or special interest in humans on planet Earth. One is saved from earthquake, volcanic eruption, flood, hurricane, plague, drought by luck and human skill, not divine intervention. When survivors of a disaster thank God for being saved when many others, equally innocent, perish, the testimony is questionable. “The rain falls on the just and unjust.” The Management of events is impersonal or non-personal. “Management” is a term a writer recently used because the usual names for the forces that seem to prevail in the universe are too faith-bound. But “Management” is just as culture-bound as any other name; and raises the same questions. What Board of Trustees appointed “The MANAGEMENT?”

My second heretical question is, why planet Earth should be singled out as the scene for God’s Salvation Scheme? Earth is a single drop in a Pacific Ocean of galaxies, solar systems, planets, satellites. Where is the evidence or reason that this planet and its people have been awarded special status? With the usual acid mixed with with his ink, H. L. Mencken wrote, “The cosmos is a gigantic fly-wheel making 10,000 revolutions a minute. Man is a sick fly taking a dizzy ride on it. Religion is the theory that the wheel was designed and set spinning to give him a ride.” (quoted PORTABLE CURMUDGEON) I hope I’m not as biting as Mencken, although there are those who tell me I’m well on the way to the curmudgeon class. But I am persuaded that “Special Divine Choosing” for the human beings on our planet is anthropocentric arrogance.

Do these observations indicate that I do not hold human life of worth? Quite the contrary. We are here; we are here on this planet; we must live together or die together. We need no Bible or Koran to convince us that freedom ennobles, that the boundaries of human justice must widen, that children are precious, that human hunger needs to be fed, that illness needs skilled, tender care, that governments and bureaucracies can be disciplined IF enough of us insist, that human love is fulfilling and self-justifying whether or not it has any “divine” links. If there is another life, prepare for it by being responsible here. If there is no other life, live this one well.

One final disclaimer: I freely acknowledge that what is factual and reasonable to me may be dreary theory for you – and conversely. So let us share our fears and hopes. Paraphrasing Nietzsche (I cannot locate the exact quote): When there are two, truth begins. Most of all, let us be kind to one another. If we are alone in the Cosmos, we are alone together.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

On Hating Or Not Hating A Thief

December 1990
Musings 1991

In the Oxford Annotated Bible, Revised Standard Version, Proverbs 6, verses 30-31 read, “Do not men despise a thief if he steals to satisfy his appetite when he is hungry? And if he is caught, he will pay sevenfold; he will give all the goods of his house.” There is a footnote on verse 30. “Or, men do not despise a thief.” The King James version reads, “Men do not despise a thief, etc.” The Moffatt translation is, “Men do not let off a thief, etc.”

Well, which is it – men do or do not despise a thief? Fundamentalists insist that the Bible is without any error. How, then, do they resolve this contradiction? In my annotated Bible there is an abundance of footnotes which state, “meaning of Hebrew word uncertain.” When scholars of Hebrew disagree on translation and admit ignorance or ambiguity, how does the fundamentalist believer in inerrancy handle the dilemma? To suit his theology, convenience, or a particular Sunday sermon?

Beyond uncertain Biblical pronouncements, an intelligible question is raised. If a family is starving, is a parent, son, or daughter to be despised for stealing a loaf of bread? In Hugo’s novel, now a superb theatrical event, “Les Miserables,” Jean Valjean is sentenced to twenty years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread – and Jean is the hero of the story. The Law, in the person of the implacable, unrelenting Javert, commits suicide when he cannot reconcile enforcing the letter of the law with his life being saved by Jean Valjean.

Note also that the Proverb we are discussing does not ignore punishment. But it is not execution, imprisonment, whipping or severing the hand of the thief. Historian Arthur Bryant writes that in 17th century England, more than one hundred fifty crimes were punishable by death. The ancient Proverb is gentler. The thief owes payment sevenfold and the goods of his house. When one is reduced to stealing bread, there cannot be much left in the house.

Ask yourself, if you and your family were starving, would you steal bread? (Assuming no other resources – friends, welfare, soup kitchens, charitable institutions). I would. This question has arisen in casual conversations through the years. The answer is always the same: “YES!!”

There is an alternative: Construct a basic economic floor through which no one could fall. Food, shelter, medical care would be the foundation. Then, to your heart's content, debate capitalism, communism, free enterprise, socialism, or whatever other abstract economic system currently appeals to your needs, fancies, or ambitions.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Slanguage And Quirks In The King’s English

November 1990
Musings 1991

My readers probably think that I OD on vignettes and persons of English history – an observation I cannot refute. I do have an affectionate attitude toward the U.K. and am a little sad that the relationship of the American dollar to the British pound probably precludes a fourth visit.

Three slanguage stimuli provoke my meditative gnawings on words and phrases:

1) The hilarious (to us) of the phrase for awakening guests.
2) A book given to me by John and Renee.
3) The Elephant and Castle.

(Let me inject that I feel no condescension in these observations. Our American slang is just as amusing and confusing to the Brits as theirs is to us. English is our Mother Tongue and one does have both love and respect for one's parent along with accepting differences.)

1) Numbers of Yanks have chuckled or leered at the British phrase for a morning wake-up call: “What time shall I knock you up in the morning?” In the U.S., as Norman Schur puts it, “knock up” is “an indelicate expression for getting a lady in a delicate condition.” Another British usage for the expression is, “I’m quite knocked up,” meaning all tired out, physically or emotionally.

2) BRITISH ENGLISH A TO ZED, Norman W. Schur, lives up to the jacket blurb, “wickedly witty and eminently useful collection of nearly 5000 Briticisms...”

Examples:
bumble – A pompous bureaucrat, frequently a clerk
bum-freezer – a short jacket
de-bus – get out of an automobile
the never-never – pay on installment plan
night on the tiles – night on the town
(the) Old Bill – (the) Cops
toad in the hole – sausage in batter
all my eye and Betty Martin – hogwash, baloney
tupenny one – sock in the jaw
wowser – fanatic puritan, spoilsport
yobbo – lout, bum
zebra – pedestrian crossing

Schur’s book also gives derivations of the expressions. I strongly recommend the book be with you as you board for Heathrow or Gatwick.

3) Elephant and Castle. This is a stop on the underground (tube). It is also a well-known pub which I missed. I speculated that maybe in the days of the British Empire, some nabob of the East India Co. returned wealthy, bringing an elephant to roam his castle grounds. I could not have been more wrong.

One of England’s more beloved Queens, the beautiful Eleanor of Castile, was the first wife of the warrior-king, Edward I (1239-1307), who was constantly at war with Scotland, Wales, and France. He captured the Stone of Scone, which is still beneath the Coronation Throne in Westminster Abbey. But his remarkable life is not the focus here.

Eleanor of Castile traveled with him on his campaigns giving birth to 15, perhaps 17, children. In 1290, she died in Nottinghamshire. The funeral cortege to London was solemn and memorable. Each time the procession stopped for the night, Edward I erected an “Eleanor Cross” in her memory.

In Chester, an “Eleanor Cross” was pointed out to me. Later in my reading I learned that this was not the original. Of the 12 crosses erected, only three are original. Even the most famous, Charing Cross, is a reproduction.

Eleanor was also known by her Spanish title, “Infanta of Castile.” It is from this title that “Elephant and Castle” is derived. Thus the transformation (how many centuries did it take?) from accuracy to idiom.

But these comments are not intended to demean, but enhance the lore, lure, and love of our English language. Quite apart from Briticisms, how much we owe to our Mother Tongue! Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Locke, Wordsworth, Auden, Yeats, Churchill are but brief tastings of our heritage of story, drama, poetry, rhetoric and song.

The heritage migrated here. The Declaration of Independence and the Gettysburg Address are but two shining examples of innumerable inspirational words written by descendants of the English.

The written and spoken word may be the prime distinction between humans and other creatures. Be glad that we have these treasures.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Sporting Life

November 1990
Musings 1991

When the above news item [article, “Club pays hookers to entertain refs”] appeared in the Tampa Tribune, Oct. 31, 1990, my somewhat uncouth mind generated a few idle questions and cynical musings:

[Quoted from article:] “You have to look after your guests properly.” Properly? Improperly is more to the point, is it not?

A Henny Youngman one-liner: “A playgirl is a girl that’s game – everybody’s.”

This item gives wider meaning to “sports”, does it not? The connection is not new, but seldom so publicly acknowledged.

Will not every soccer referee have a suspicious wife? She may socc him.

When the marching band parades on the football field at the half, will part of the brass section be replaced by strumpets?

Are we going to be a bit embarrassed to use such familiar words in sports as tailback, relief pitcher, safeties, split end, bullpen, clipping, touchback, welcome to the pros, putting the story to bed?

[Quoted from article:] “[It] happens everywhere”: Are there referees who have been blackmailed into “bad” calls because they were filmed on a “good” night with a call girl?

Ala Aesop, the moral is don’t bet on sports events unless you have an inside tip on who was the designated hitter (the night before).

Quite aside from such trifling comments, did it ever occur to you that the prostitute is blamed, but not the customer? One reads of many prostitutes being arrested, but how often is her customer nabbed by the law? Once in a while, but infrequently, in a raid on a brothel the customer's names are published. But when are they jailed or fined? I give you an iron law of cause and effect – if there were no customers, there would be no prostitutes.

There have always been prostitutes; there have always been customers. Whether one attributes prostitution to inescapable, rascally biological male impulses, or some inevitable social or cultural condition, why blame the woman who sells, more than the man who buys? But society does blame the woman. Why? You may think of more and sounder reasons and causes, but consider (historically and currently):

Law-givers and law-enforcers have been male.
Moral exhorters and moral condemners (clergy, mostly) have been male.
History has been written by males.
Power has been wielded by males – church, state, home, occupation, media.
Women have been considered subordinate creatures in law and government. Do you not consider it both astonishing and revealing that in this U.S.A., “land of the free,” women had no vote until 1920, a year in the lifetime of many of us?

Things are changing – “You’ve come a long way, baby.” But the very phrasing of that condescending cliche indicates there’s a much longer distance to go.

So don’t come to me cursing a hooker unless you are equally profane about the buyer of her body and her dignity.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Murder In The Cathedral – Law In The Land

November, 1990
Musings 1991

In a prior “musing”, I noted parenthetically that Henry II deserved more praise than the sainted Thomas á Becket. T. S. Eliot’s drama focused on Becket’s martyrdom, neglecting many of the conflicts which led up to it. That is not to criticize Eliot, because to thus narrow the focus was good theater. Ackroyd, Eliot’s biographer, believed that in this drama, Eliot combined his faith with his poetry. Eliot’s use of The Tempters was a scintillating dramatic device to show the turbulent and anxious ambivalence of Becket’s mind as he contemplated his coming death.

Not so many years ago I stood at the stone slab in Canterbury Cathedral, at the spot where Becket was killed. That experience has remained with me; motivating much reading about the tangled historical conflicts that seethed in the rush of events that led to December 29, 1170, when four Knights killed Becket, believing that they were carrying out the wishes of King Henry II. They were not goons or hitmen; they were distinguished Barons acting for King and Country, or so they were convinced.

Thomas Becket was canonized a saint in 1173, less than three years after his death. As an aside, it is worth noting that Joan of Arc was canonized in 1920, 489 years after she was burned at the stake as an heretic. But the Maid of Orleans was a French patriot, loyal to her “voices,” her King and her Country; not to the Pope at Rome.

The shrine of Thomas Becket soon became famous. Pilgrims journeyed from near and far to seek miracles or offer penitential or petitionary prayers.. Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales” imperishably relates the marvelous “mix” of persons of different classes and character who made the PILGRIMAGE. Most of them brought gifts – gold, silver, jewels. In the course of more than three-hundred years, vast wealth accumulated at Becket’s shrine. When King Henry VIII repudiated the Pope because he would not grant a divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII named himself as Head of the Church in England. He seized and kept or distributed the vast treasure at Becket’s shrine, as well as confiscating the huge estates and wealth which had belonged to the Roman Catholic Church.

The conflict of authority that led to Murder in the Cathedral sifts down to this: Was the Pope supreme over both Church and State? The idea of Papal theocracy had been contentious for centuries before the time of Becket and Henry II. Briefly, and too simplistically, the Papal claim was that the Emperor or King had to act as the secular, enforcing arm of Papal supremacy. The King or Emperor thus was required to carry out Papal orders. Seldom did this prevail, however, as various Kings and Emperors manipulated the Papacy through war and politics, even at times naming who the next Pope would be.

But the Papal claim had, and has always, been disputed. There have been “False Decretals” (forgeries) which claimed this Papal authority from the most ancient of Christian centuries – a false claim. More convincingly, such Christian Emperors as Constantine (belatedly Christian), Justinian, and Charlemagne claimed their sovereignty was directly from God, not brokered by the Pope. The “Divine Right of Kings” was not a dispensation to be made or removed by the Pope.

Through the first 14 or 15 “Christian” centuries, this conflict of authority heated up or cooled down, usually depending on whether a given Pope was strong and forceful, such as Pope Gregory VII (Hildebrand). In 1302, a century and a half after the fatal day at Canterbury, Pope Boniface VIII (Bernard Gaetani) issued the Papal Bull of Unam sanctam, declaring absolute submission to papal authority was essential to salvation. King and Emperor were ordered never to use their temporal power to clash with the purposes of the Church, as these purposes were issued by the Pope. Unam sanctam made the claim, but did not become practice, as the tormented papacy of Boniface VIII attests. But that is another story.

In the 12th century, Becket and Henry II were the personifications of the warring jurisdictions – King and Country vis-a-vis Pope, bishops, priests, and clerks. The Pope Alexander III (Roland Bandinelli) was in a dilemma because he had the problem, not uncommon in those centuries, of an Anti-Pope. More accurately, perhaps, there were two Popes, each claiming the throne of St. Peter’s at Rome. If Alexander was too clear, too decisive, too aggressive in his support of Becket, then Henry II might transfer his allegiance, power, and armies to the “Anti-Pope”. (Did you think ambiguous political stands were unique to our day?)

Three events were catalytic in causing the inevitable march of events that led to that fatal December day in the Cathedral (although there were numerous other pressures and disagreements):

1) The stunning character shift in Thomas Becket when he became Archbishop of Canterbury.
2) The Constitutions of Clarendon.
3) The coronation of the son of King Henry II.

1) Thomas was an archdeacon in the Church when young King Henry II made Becket Chancellor of the Kingdom. This was a most important appointment, because the Chancellor controlled much power and wealth and was responsible only to the King. The King and Becket were close. They dined, hunted, drank together. No one had more access to the King. One historian noted that the relationship was like unto that of Joseph and Pharaoh. Henry II so trusted Becket that Henry pulled the strings of royal power, manipulated, and pressured the Bishops and the Monks of Canterbury to ensure Becket’s election as Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of England. There were protests, but the will of Henry II was not to be denied. Thomas Becket was ordained a priest on June 2, 1154 and consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury the following day.

The advantages for Henry II seemed obvious. The concentration of offices of King’s Chancellor and Archbishop of Canterbury could only augment his power. The pleasure-loving Becket, who had so relished the wealth, luxury and high-living which came with being Chancellor, then shocked and enraged the King by resigning the Chancellorship. Becket had himself secretly sewn into a hair shirt with an opening in the back for self-flagellation. When his clothing was removed at his death, the unwashed hair shirt was filthy with vermin.

Why? There have been many opinions without convincing conclusions. Did he experience a religious conversion when consecrated an Archbishop? Had pleasure-loving Thomas been a secret ascetic? Was he a superb actor who played every position as a role acted to the hilt? Had he been false to Henry II because he had showed outward loyalty to the King but secretly his prime allegiance was to Rome? Who knows; I do not. Perhaps, simply, he was a masochist. The historians have spun out theories, but the threads of their evidence are weak. What is clear is that the relationship of Thomas and Henry II could never be restored.

2) The Constitutions of Clarendon were another milestone on the Road to Canterbury. On January 13, 1164, two contending parties met: Bishops opposed to King Henry II and his Barons. The most important among many points of intense dispute was that alleged crimes by clergy and clerks would be dealt with in the King’s Courts, not the Church. Heretofore, the clergy, including the numerous clerks who had been educated in the Church could not be tried in the Civil Courts. This “benefit of Clergy” applied to students, even, as one historian put it, applying to anyone who had “a smattering of Latin.”

Other provisions included a clause that no archbishop, bishop or clergy could leave the Kingdom without the King’s permission. No one could be excommunicated without first application to the King. There were a total of 16 provisions. After strong opposition, Thomas Becket gave way and assented to the King’s demands. His fellow-bishops were ordered to acquiesce, and they did. Henry II claimed precedence from pre-conquest days for these articles, although as one might surmise this was and is strongly disputed. But as Becket's biographer, Knowles, puts it, “the real conflict...(was) between two conceptions of Church and Monarchy.”

Thomas had second thoughts about assenting to the provisions, and begged the Pope for absolution. Thomas attempted to cross the Channel in violation of one of the provisions, but failed. Then ensued about six months of tense events too numerous to list. Then in November, 1164, under cover of a storm, he escaped to France, where he was to remain in exile for six years. Controversy raged, centering on the exiled Thomas, King Henry II, and the Pope. There were many efforts to effect a reconciliation between King Henry II and Becket. But hostility prevailed, and no serious compromise accepted. Thomas excommunicated English bishops who sided with the King with no lasting effect. Pope Alexander III offered a compromise which would have restored Becket to Canterbury. But this was of little influence because of another serious quarrel between Becket and Henry II.

3) Henry II announced that his son, another Henry, would be crowned, a tradition of designating a successor. Pope Alexander had reserved the power of Coronation for the Archbishop of Canterbury, but Henry II designated the Archbishop of York to confer coronation, not the exiled Thomas, thus deepening the chasm between two headstrong men. The coronation took place with the Archbishop of York presiding, with almost all the English and Welsh bishops present.

Then, a seeming peace occurred, although the resolution of disputed property claims between Becket and Henry II remained ambiguous and undecided. Most issues were unresolved, but Thomas decided to return to England and Canterbury. He arrived with a splendid entourage and eager crowds pleaded for his blessing. At Canterbury he was greeted by a large and jubilant crowd. But Thomas was still unrelenting in his condemnation of the King, charging misuse of Canterbury wealth and properties.

King Henry II and his Barons could no longer endure Thomas. No one will ever know with certainty whether King Henry II ordered Becket killed or whether he was to be imprisoned. The King was certainly furious, and his hot words were sufficient warrant for the Knights to invade Canterbury Cathedral and, with their swords, martyr Thomas Becket.

If you have a taste for history, you may have read this far, and begun to wonder why I noted that King Henry II was more to be praised than Becket. Henry II seemingly (and perhaps for political reasons) accepted responsibility for the murder in the Cathedral, because he made a penitential pilgrimage where he endured seven lashes each from 100 monks, a beating which would have killed or permanently crippled most men. But Henry stood up, walked to his horse and rode away. He was physically strong, like most of the Plantagenets, possessing as well great stamina and determination.

If you are turned off because of political murders, or for that matter, willful killing, you would have to include most monarchs of medieval, renaissance and Reformation eras in your revulsion. Henry II was the first of the Plantagenet line, also known as the Angevins. That line kept power until Richard III was killed at the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). This began the line of Tudor Kings, as the winner, Henry Tudor, the Welshman, assumed the crown as Henry VII. The Tudors were no saints. Witness Henry VIII and his readiness to order beheadings, just as one example. But also one must remember that his daughter was one of the greatest of English monarchs, Elizabeth I.

Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine when he was nineteen and she thirty-one years old. She had been divorced from King Louis VII of France, by whom she had two daughters. Her marriage to Henry II brought him sovereignty over large areas of France. The marriage was stormy, yet productive. In their first six years of marriage, five children were born, 4 of them boys. They had a total of eight children, two of them to become Kings of England – Richard the Lionheart, and John of Magna Carta fame. Henry, the eldest, the crown designate, died while Henry II was still alive.

When, years later, the King discovered that Eleanor was plotting to have Richard replace him, Henry imprisoned Eleanor for sixteen years in Winchester. Richard left for foreign parts, as a crusader, as a prisoner in Europe and, on his father's death, King of England. Richard was a strong, brave and skilled warrior, but he was by no means the glorified hero Walter Scott created in IVANHOE.

All these famous or notorious ones were men and women of their time – ruthless power-seekers few would admire today. But one has some obligation to view them as part of the web and woof of their times, not ours.

Henry II, crowned in 1154, reigned for thirty-five years. His constant goal was to increase the power of the monarch vis-a-vis the feudal lords and the Church. He established kingly courts, where itinerant judges, responsible to him and not the feudal lords, adjudicated disputes and tried cases.

Henry II established Common Law in England, where precedents of former cases were used to guide legal decisions as well as statutory law. This English Common Law we have inherited. By common agreement it is a superior system of justice than reliance on statutory law or Napoleonic Code still prevailing in some European countries.

Henry II strengthened the jury system. Under his reign, the jury was drawn not only from the Knightly class but also from small landholders and representatives from the villages. Claims were subject to the weighing of evidence by people of the neighborhood.

Although Henry II had to relax enforcing of provisions of the Constitutions of Clarendon after Becket’s murder, the system did grow to the end that eventually the religious hierarchy could no longer have “the benefit of clergy” to exempt their bishops, priests, monks and numerous “clerks” from trial in the civil and criminal courts.

All these legal institutions gathered strength through the turmoil of centuries. The Puritans who came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony and the aristocrats who settled Virginia and Maryland both brought with them the English Common Law and trial by a jury of one’s peers. We may well be grateful for that system and to Henry II, whatever his motives, for being such a substantial figure in their growth.

All these observations just to make my point that Henry II is more to be praised than “Saint” Thomas á Becket, whether you might consider the founding Plantagenet a man you love to hate or a man you hate to love.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Means And Ends

October 4, 1990
Musings 1991

“This was the noblest Roman of them all.” So spoke Marc Antony at the body of Brutus, who had killed himself after his army was defeated at Philippi by the forces of Antony and Octavian. These words of Shakespeare strengthened the view of Plutarch, whose 1st century biography made Brutus much more a hero than assassin. Shakespeare relied heavily on Plutarch for the plot and character development of the masterful tragedy, “Julius Caesar.”

The noblest Roman of them all? Brutus was a principal plotter, along with Cassius, of the assassination. Plutarch reported that Julius Caesar was suspicious of Brutus as well as Cassius and included Brutus in the remark, “lean and hungry look; such men are dangerous.” Shakespeare omitted Brutus, confining the suspicion of Julius Caesar to Cassius alone.

Brutus’ [action] was a possible parricide. Plutarch writes that stories circulated that Brutus was the son of Julius Caesar. Brutus’ mother, Servilia, and Caesar had been deeply in love about the time Brutus was born. Thus, “et tu, Brute” in the play might have reflected the agony of Caesar that his own son should be among those stabbing him. Historians doubt this as Plutarch may not always have separated gossip from fact.

Brutus made a serious political mistake when he spared Antony’s life when Cassius wanted to kill Antony, too, immediately after assassination of Caesar. Brutus:

“For Antony is but a limb of Caesar.
Let us be sacrificers, not butchers, Cassius.”

This act of mercy gave Antony the opportunity for the famous funeral oration with its masterful use of incremental sarcasm that turned the Roman populace against Brutus and Cassius.

Brutus made a fatal military mistake when
he persuaded Cassius to attack at Philippi: (In
Shakespeare’s powerful words)

“There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyages of their lives
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.”

Cassius, who had advocated a delaying action, hoping Antony’s and Octavian’s armies would wear out in pursuit, gave in. He yielded to Brutus. But the tide came in for Antony and Octavian. Cassius and Brutus committed suicide when defeat was obvious.

In the foregoing summary, Brutus does not seem like the “noblest Roman of them all”, does he? But there is more to be said of Brutus.

Brutus had a powerful motive to oppose Caesar’s wearing a kingly crown. Perhaps Caesar felt Brutus to be his son. But it is doubtful that Brutus shared that belief. Brutus was descended from Junius Brutus, the brave liberator who, centuries before, expelled the Tarquins, destroyed their monarchy and set the stage for the Roman Republic. Brutus received letters at the statue of Junius Brutus, “O that Brutus was alive,” and similar taunts, urging him to don the mantle and grasp the sword to stop the ambitions of Caesar to become Monarch. Brutus embraced that obligation.

Brutus was educated; had learned philosophy in Greece. Caesar had been influential in making Brutus Governor of Cisalpine Gaul, where he had built a reputation for wise government, good deeds, honor and integrity. Such repute was a contrast to Cassius, his brother-in-law. Cassius had meaner motives, mainly acquiring personal wealth. After the assassination, he is urging extorting money from nobles and plebs alike. Brutus protests strongly: (Act IV Sc. iii)

“... What, shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man in the world
But for supporting robbers, shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honours
For such trash as may be grasped thus?
I had rather be a dog and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.”

When Brutus spoke over Caesar's body, he said: (Act III Sc. ii) “Not that I loved Caesar less, but I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him, but as he was ambitious, I slew him....”

Plutarch summarizes, (.1204, Dryden translation) “And that which gained Brutus the greatest affection and reputation was the entire faith of his intentions.”

His enemy, Antony, over Brutus’ body, (In Shakespeare's majestic words)

“This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He only, in a general-honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix’d in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, ‘This was a man!’”

That was a magnificent curtain speech. But there are questions still to be asked; issues that need to be resolved.

Does the end justify the means? That age-old ethical dilemma did not begin or end with Brutus. Brutus, Cassius, Casca and the others murdered Caesar because they feared he would accept the crown, be a monarch over them. Caesar refused the crown three times, but the plotters, in their anxiety, believed he would have but for Julius having an epileptic spasm. The dread of a monarchy justified the illegal, immoral murder. Did it?

The news and commentaries in these weeks of September and October, 1990, have been laced with speculation that the best way to end the Iraq-Kuwait crisis and avert war is to assassinate Saddam Hussein. The end: peace in the Middle East would justify the means, assassination.

But would it? Who can say with any certainty that 100 million Moslems would accept an assassination planned or at least approved by a Western (Judeo-Christian) Power? The consequences might also be, (in Antony’s words) “Cry Havoc; and loose the dogs of war.”

History reminds us that the means used by Brutus and Cassius brought about the very consequences they had plotted to avoid. Julius Caesar was assassinated; Brutus and Cassius lost in war to Antony and Octavian (Caesar’s nephew); later, Antony, dissipated and besotted with Cleopatra, lost to Octavian in the famous naval battle of Actium; Antony and Cleopatra were suicides; Octavian became Caesar Augustus, beginning the succession of Roman Emperors. With the probable exception of the Antonines, this chain of Caesars was a grievous part of history for centuries.

So the ages have a tip for us – be careful of means used to accomplish ends, however glorious these ends seem to be. Means can corrupt; means can debase the ends. Too often, the consequences are a disastrous surprise.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

God’s Word – Hang The Innocent

September 25, 1990
Musings 1991

The 21st chapter of 2nd Samuel contains a woeful example of lex talionis, the law of revenge – an eye for an eye, a life for a life, blood feud continued for generations.

There was a three-year famine in the land. King David “sought the face of the Lord, and the Lord said, ‘there is blood-guilt on Saul and on his house because he put the Gibeonites to death.’” King Saul was dead, of course, so he could not be the object of the revenge. King David gathered the Gibeonite remnant and asked them, “What shall I do for you? How shall I make expiation that you may bless the heritage of the Lord?”

The Gibeonites wanted neither silver nor gold, but said to King David, “The man (Saul) who consumed us and planned to destroy us ... let seven of his sons be given to us so that we may hang them up before the Lord at Gibeon.” King David agreed. The Gibeonites hanged seven sons and five grandsons of Saul. Then after some strange rituals of collecting bones, the Lord brought good weather to end the famine in Israel.

To anyone who has any sense of fair-play, hanging the innocent for the crimes of the guilty is a travesty, an unconscionable perversion of justice. There was another example of such parody of justice in King David’s life. For his crime in sending Uriah, the husband of Bath-Sheba to be killed in battle, the Lord caused the infant son of David and Bath-Sheba to die. Strict interpretation of law of revenge would have required that King David die. But, the scriptures indicate, David had a special relationship with the Lord, so the Lord took an innocent life instead.

Are such unjust, inhumane acts the Lord’s Will and Way?

If I believed that a supreme God could and would slaughter the innocents, then He/She would have to be renamed the Evil One. As I am agnostic about God and the Gods, what Protagoras said in the fifth century B.C.E. suits my understanding, “About the gods I can say nothing, neither that they exist nor they do not exist, nor what their nature is. Many things prevent us from knowing this – the obscurity of the subject and the brevity of human life.”

In my view, David agreed to the execution of Saul’s sons and grandsons for personal, political or dynastic reasons now buried in an impenetrable legendary fog. Later apologists, or perhaps David himself shifted the responsibility, passed the buck, “God did it because of Saul’s blood-guilt.”

How convenient to shift the blame to one's God! Many bloody crusades, purges, pogroms have been labeled “God's Kill.” The massacre of the Albigensians was ordered by Pope Innocent III (what an ironic name – Innocent). He was obeyed because he was “God’s Vicar on Earth.” Consider the moral dilemma faced by the English who colonized this continent. The original inhabitants, the Indians, were in the way of land-expansion and development. How justify our cruel ways? The noted Puritan clergyman, Cotton Mather, came up with a theological rationalization, “Probably the Devil decoyed the Indians to America in hopes that the gospel of Jesus Christ would never come here to destroy or disturb his absolute empire over them.” (Quoted by Walter LeFeber, AMERICAN AGE, p.11) You can't top that for finding “religious” reasons approving the exploitation, abuse and displacement of other peoples in order to get rich.

But, campers, it just won’t wash. Any God worth His/Her salt would have arrived in Boston pronto and belted Cotton Mather across the chops when that Puritan preacher concocted that self-serving “theological” lie.

One acts; one is responsible. Speaking for myself, I have no more virtue and no fewer vices than the average guy. But I take the onus, the “rap”, if you will, for whatever I have done or will do. I promise not to put the blame on Mame, or God, or Allah, or “my” Karma.

Human nature is a puzzling compound of heritage, feeling and thought developing in a Universe of apparent stability and regularity; but also, paradoxically, of dynamic change. Human nature is an enigmatic union of pre-conscious, latent instincts of our buried past; subterranean layers of old and new cultural conditioning, experience, the consciousness of self and others, and for too many of us, an ego which causes troubles for ourselves and others.

That diagnosis won’t spur anyone to cartwheels of joy about the human venture. But, the saving word, the liberating emotion is Hope – a persisting hope that cherishes the vision of what could be better and more just in this eccentric world. And, too seldom, but often enough to keep the embers of hope glowing, there are persons who do make a difference, almost always at great cost to themselves.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Musings II - Introduction

Musings II First Section
February 1991

In these reflections, I have not re-written when facts and/or opinions have been overtaken by subsequent events.

I trust that it will be evident that there is no effort to persuade anyone to think as I do. Rather, if there are times when readers consider these issues and observations, I will be amply rewarded whether or not there is agreement.

If you want the next batch, let me know. I have no wish to over-burden your “round file” with excess paper.

Carl J. Westman

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Death

September 1990

That single-word title is to make the point that “death” is such a fearsome word to many persons that all variety of euphemisms are trotted out to avoid the word, “death.” We hear, “He passed away”; “she passed on”; “He is in heaven now.” Tennyson poetically described death as “crossing the bar.” In my younger days, I remember older men speaking of death, say, “He’s gone where the woodbine twineth.” Nowadays, a popular euphemism for death is, “He bought the farm.” I don't know the derivation of either “woodbine twineth” or “buying the farm.”

Albert Camus noted, “In Italian museums are found the little painted screens that the priest used to hold in front of the face of condemned men to hide the scaffold from them.” (in essay, “The Absurd Man” in THE MYTH OF SISYPHUS AND OTHER ESSAYS)

The euphemisms are innocuous and a matter of taste, I suppose, except that they represent a retreat from the reality that we all must die. The time comes, early or late, “He is dead”; “She is dead.” Such retreat from reality through euphemisms is understandable even though religions in various ways all deal with death and its meaning. The difficulty arises when such reluctance to confront death affects the choices of other people.

Now I read that some of the same persons and groups who, sometimes violently and illegally, oppose a woman's right to terminate a pregnancy are actively opposing those of us who claim the right of euthanasia – to choose to die rather than have a terminal illness prolonged through artificial life-support systems. Some of us take the additional step of being willing to go beyond passive euthanasia in taking action that will cause death.

Such “active” euthanasia became national news in June when Janet Adkins used Dr. Jack Kevorkian's “suicide” device. Janet Adkins, diagnosed as a victim of Alzeimer’s disease, pressed a button that released lethal chemicals into her system. Dr. Kevorkian’s van and the suicide device” were confiscated by authorities. As of this writing, the case is not yet adjudicated. I believe Janet Adkins had the right to choose death, and that Dr. Kevorkian committed no crime in providing the device she used to end her life. In this and similar contexts, “right to life” is more properly stated, “Right to control one's life.”

Thus many of us have written a “living will.” I have, and distributed it to my daughters and sons. No life-support systems for me; certainly NOT that inhuman feeding tube plugged into my gut. A pox on anyone who tries to do that to me.

But it must be emphasized that any one who does not want these medical procedures must make it known. The Nancy Cruzan case is sufficient reminder of that. Nancy Cruzan, 32, has been in a comatose state since 1983 as a result of an automobile accident. Her family requested permission to discontinue life-support systems. The Court refused because her family had not shown, “by clear and convincing evidence” that she would have wanted termination of treatment.

When I am in such terminal condition, I want release, to die, passively or actively. If I can speak, I will quote Kent’s words on the dying Lear (Act V Sc. 3)

“Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass. He hates him
That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.”

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Exploring a Co-incidence

August 26, 1990

In the last few days, three times I have happened on the sentence, “Old men ought to be explorers.” Once in a poem by Wallace Stevens; another time in some publication; the third time in a dream – or was I just muttering the words while in that strange state of being neither asleep nor awake? Odd, too, now that I am attempting to write about it, I can't find either reference – neither Wallace Stevens nor the article.

“Old men ought to be explorers” is, of course, a line from “East Coker”, one of the “Four Quartets” by T.S. Eliot. I’ve read “Four Quartets” many times. One occasion in the 1950s, when I had some program responsibilities in a Summer Institute, I remember dragooning some people to do portions as choric readings.

So, for a couple of hours I’ve been attempting to “get into” “East Coker”, reading passages aloud, seeking meaning in the rhythms as well as in the words and ideas. No overwhelming enlightenment has occurred. I have never been a scholar of Eliot. Some college English touched on “The Wasteland” and “The Cocktail Party.” I have experienced at least two stage presentations of “Murder in the Cathedral” and seen the movie with O’Toole and Burton. (Sometime I’ll jot down a few paragraphs explaining why, to me, Henry II deserves more praise than Thomas Becket.) “Cats” is great.

Back to “Old men ought to be explorers”, I looked up the time and circumstance which sparked, “East Coker” in Peter Ackroyd"s biography, T.S. ELIOT, A LIFE:

More than 200 years ago, Andrew Eliot left the village of East Coker, came to America; and was the founder of the distinguished Eliot family in America, so important to both Unitarianism and education in our country. The first line of the poem, “In my beginning is my end.” T.S. Eliot visited East Coker in 1937. While there he took photos of the village and the parish church, St. Michael’s. When T.S. Eliot died in 1965, his ashes were interred in St. Michael’s. The last line in “East Coker”, “In my end is my beginning.” The memorial tablet in St. Michael’s reads:

“Remember Thomas Stearns Eliot, poet.
In my beginning is my end
In my end is my beginning.”

In 1940, T.S. Eliot published “East Coker” in a newspaper. The poem proved so popular that it was printed in pamphlet form and sold 12,000 copies. Ackroyd believes “East Coker” was popular because it emphasized historical continuity in a time when that was fragile and uncertain. The Nazis threatened; the air-raid bombings were devastating; invasion seemed imminent. “East Coker” seemed to be an anchor in the storm.

However, T.S. Eliot, commenting on his own creation, said there was no central meaning, “since he had attempted to find a method of uniting on an emotional level a variety of elements which were otherwise quite unrelated.” (Ackroyd, p.256)

Why, then, my repeated experience “old men ought to be explorers”? Was TSE challenging the honesty and supposed wisdom of old men: (II)

“Long hoped for calm, the autumnal serenity
And wisdom of age? Had they deceived us
Or deceived themselves, the quiet-voiced elders
Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit?
The serenity only a deliberate hebetude,
The wisdom only the knowledge of dead secrets
Useless in the darkness into which they peered
Or from which they turned their eyes..."

(hebetude = dullness, stupidity)

Or was TSE suggesting that old men should be seeking God – as in the lines: (V, near the end)

“Old men ought to be explorers
Here and there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and porpoise.
In my end is my beginning.”

Do the lines apply? Not to me, consciously at least. “East Coker” has affinities. As I have studied Eliot’s lines, I am reminded of Chapters 4, 6 and parts of Chapter 12 of Ecclesiastes. There are hints of Hindu philosophy in the perpetual wheel of events without beginning or end. A believer in re-incarnation would probably assume that was in Eliot’s mind. Eliot’s statement is good enough for me that “East Coker” has no central meaning. I have wondered if Eliot, unconsciously, was regretting his desertion of the strong Unitarian faith of his forbears and speculating that the colorful rites and creed of Anglican worship were no longer enough. TSE, I’m certain, would reject that unfounded supposition with withering, articulate, poetic scorn.

Yes, Old men ought to be explorers. (Women, I have adhered to Eliot’s word, but fersure, you are included). But we will differ in the destination of the trek. What am I exploring? I guess you’ll have to see me, read me, talk to me or observe me to make a judgment on that. But won’t you have to concede that your judgment might be in error? Heigh-ho! (as Vonnegut writes)

The Villain Was A Victim!!

June 8, 1990

(Exodus 4 21/23 JPS translation of the Torah )

“And the Lord said to Moses, ‘When you return to Egypt, see that you perform before Pharaoh all the marvels that I have put within your power. I, however will stiffen his heart so that he will not let the people go. Then you shall say to Pharaoh. “Thus says the Lord: Israel is my first-born son. I have said to you, ‘Let my son go that he may worship me.’ Yet you refuse to let him go. Hence I will slay your first-born son.”’”

The rest of the story is well-known: the plagues, the slaying of the first-born of the Egyptians, the pass-over of the houses of the Hebrews, the escape from Egypt, the miraculous parting of the Red Sea and the mass drowning of the host of Pharaoh. Cecil B. DeMille didn't miss a trick in his epic film. Charlton Heston (Moses) was a splendid hero (with a distinctly Nordic profile). Yul Brynner (Pharaoh) was a cruel villain.

The instructions for the Passover celebration (Seder) were detailed in Exodus 12 14/20. For about thirty-two or thirty-three centuries Passover has been observed with memories, awe and thankfulness.

Why, then, was Pharaoh a victim and not a villain? Look again at Exodus 4 21: “I (the Lord) will stiffen his heart so that he will not let the people go.” Is this a way of saying that Pharaoh might have let the Hebrews go if his heart had not been “stiffened”? The Lord pre-destined Pharaoh to be cruel, repressive and stubborn. Pharaoh had no choice according to Exodus. Some years back, the TV comedian, Flip Wilson, explained away his mischief by saying, “The Devil made me do it.” If you think about it, Pharaoh had a much more impressive alibi, “Adonai (The Lord) MADE ME DO IT.”

All this suggests the never-ending debate about “determinism” and “free will.” Not only theologians but physicists and other scientists argue the subject vehemently. Einstein searched for an equation which would explain that all the forces of the Universe were in harmony with fixed, determined "laws." Defending his position against opponents, Einstein remarked, “God does not play with dice.”

But not all physicists agree, particularly those whose field is the sub-atomic universe. Quantum theory does posit, I think, that there is some random behavior in the sub-atomic world not explained by “natural laws.” Or, can only be explained by contradictory “laws.”

But to return to Pharaoh, was he not “set-up,” victim of a Divine “sting” operation? In modern law courts, could he not make a successful plea of entrapment? What kind of God must She/He be to choose a victim and then make him one of the notorious villains of history? Did She/He pre-determine that I should write this somewhat irreverent essay?

Friday, February 12, 2010

Six Blank Pages?

May 21, 1990

Just before Columbus’ momentous voyages, some thinking Europeans believed the world was crumbling. THE NUREMBERG CHRONICLE dwelt on the “calamity ... in which iniquity and evil have increased to the highest pitch” and at the end of the book gave its readers six blank pages to record events from 1493 to the end of the world. (Source: THE EUROPEAN DISCOVERY OF AMERICA, THE NORTHERN VOYAGES, Samuel Eliot Morrison).

How would you record the events of the ensuing 500 years on six blank pages?

World-ending predictions have been frequent. For centuries enthusiastic religious prophets have been eloquent doom-sayers and always wrong.

Six blank pages? How many millions of pages have been printed since that gloomy foreboding. Consider only:

The Industrial Revolution
The terrible wars
The age of the automobile and airplane
The nuclear age
The electronic and computer age

The list is long and has filled many encyclopedias, histories and biographies. On my shelves are two feet of books dealing just with Thomas Jefferson.

Today we have our varieties of THE NUREMBERG CHRONICLE:
The world will end because we have destroyed the air, the forests, the ozone layer. The world will end because we have not solved the sad and scary inequalities between “haves” and “have-nots”. The world will end because we seemingly cannot solve the problems of not only nuclear weapons but also biological and chemical warfare, even though the “Great Powers” seem more and more aware of what it means to possess the deadly weapons they have devised and made.

One can be Chicken Little and predict the sky is falling. Any number can play the old erroneous game of putting a modern “spin” on the books of Daniel and Revelation. Handsomely-groomed prophets of Armageddon can be seen on the tube at almost any hour. Why must they be so expensively tailored and beg for so much money if the world is going to end so soon? Maybe they want to have a well-stuffed wallet when they meet Jesus “in the sky.”

The ecologists and peace-makers are more realistic and scientific. We could drown in our own garbage and nuclear waste. Cut down all the forests and we would suffocate. There are still madmen who would touch off nuclear or biological war just to satisfy their irrational impulses of revenge or paranoia. It could happen. Sympathetic as I am and supportive as I am toward ecological and peace-making ways, it is possible we are heading down the road to universal catastrophe.

Nevertheless, I am hopeful, with a dollop of pessimism, that we will need a great many more than six blank pages to record world history from this moment on. I don’t know how much more or to what depths suffering must be endured, but I believe the human venture will survive.

Why do I believe this? Certainly not from any theological prediction; and not because of any scientific crystal ball. But in the annals of humankind one can discover kindness as well as cruelty, justice as well as injustice, mercy as well as revenge, hope as well as despair.

There is an infinite number of pages still to be written. Always I have resonated to the closing lines of Carl Sandburg’s “The People, Yes”:

“This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers,
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in the fire,
The stars make no noise.
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?

In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march
In the night and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps,
the people march.
‘Where to? What next?’”

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A Carol Without Christmas?

December 30, 1989
Musings 1990

Over the years, several movie and TV versions of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” have been produced. Every Christmas season one can rely on “A Christmas Carol” being shown on several occasions. Most of us have read the story at least three or more times.
In his own time, Dickens himself read the “Carol” to audiences. We read that he changed the story from time to time. The text was plagiarized or pirated by various publishers in Europe and America and varying versions were published.

But one can wonder why “A Christmas Carol” is so popular with Christians because there isn’t very much “Christian” about it. There is no mention of the Christian scheme of salvation where God incarnated “Himself” as the baby Jesus who would grow, preach, teach, heal, and finally die on the cross to save all humans from the consequences of Adam’s (and Eve’s?) “sin.”

In “A Christmas Carol”, I did not observe anyone going to church services. There was no creche visible. Neither Santa Claus nor Father Christmas put in an appearance. There was no Christmas tree. True, Scrooge is awakened in the morning by church bells ringing. But that is all that is “churchy”.

Scrooge experienced a belated recognition of human need. He sent a large turkey (in some versions, a fat goose) to the Cratchit home. He surprises his housekeeper with silver coins. He gives Bob Cratchit a raise in pay. Implied is his financing medical aid for Tiny Tim so that the lad does not die – but grows strong and tall. Scrooge overcomes his “loner” mentality and visits his nephew and wife. There is great jollity in that home. Dancing, eating and warm friendship abound. But he brings no Christmas gifts and there are none in sight in the happy home of the young couple.

“A Christmas Carol” is not Christian theology. Scrooge could have been a Moslem, Jew, Hindu, or atheist, and still have turned away from lonely miserliness to happier generosity, becoming more appreciative of the Cratchit family and the nephew’s family and friends.

The only prayer is Tiny Tim’s, “God bless us everyone.”

But outside of that theistic prayer, the whole story of Scrooge could be that of an agnostic secular Humanist who found liberation from his self-imposed chains by using his treasure and talents to improving the human condition, where he was and where he could. Do you know of better ways?

Who Defines Our Necessities?

November 21, 1989
Musings 1990

One never tires of reading again and again KING LEAR because Shakespeare recreates, dramatically and poignantly, both the shame and glory of the human condition.

Shakespeare, the great Elizabethan, whose life was confined geographically to the small area of Stratford to London (with perhaps, road shows now and then in other English towns), was a profound prophet of the universals of human good and evil uncircumscribed by boundaries of place or time.

In Act 3, Scene 2, King Lear, accepting straw for a bed, says:

“The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious.”

One “necessity” we lackadaisical citizens have tolerated is the bloated “defense” budget of 300 billion dollars annually. Surely nuclear weapons are vile along with chemical and biological warfare and the whole dismal panoply of ways to kill not only armed enemies, but also whole populations. What has made “vile things precious?” The presence of a dangerous and powerful FOE!

One current ploy in the forty-year-old Cold War is the brutality again surfacing in El Salvador. Six Jesuit priests and two other persons have been massacred in cold blood by the infamous Death Squads. The Cristiani government will investigate, but the only sure outcome is that the assassins will not be brought to justice. Our U.S. government has been supporting right-wing military dictatorship in El Salvador at the rate of one million dollars a day for years. Reliable sources report that these Death Squads have murdered at least seventy thousand men, women and children.

Because the rebels are labeled “left-wing guerillas” or “communists”, vile actions are precious. Thus, killing them off is the “art of our necessity.” An ENEMY is needed to keep Congress voting the stupendous sums for "defense". An ENEMY is needed to keep the signed contracts accumulating for the gigantic arms corporations. Although corruption, bribery, and incompetence are abundant in the military-industrial complex, few in the House or Senate seem shocked or aroused. PAC funds soothe any pangs of Congressional conscience.

But, what if we run out of enemies? The current tide of events in Europe seems to be a sign that the USSR is less and less THE FOE. The Russian Bear no longer crushes all within its grasp. Can we then begin a transfer of weapons of war to tools for peace? Food for the hungry of the world, medical care, housing, education, environmental concerns and the multitude of human needs crying for attention? What a noble transformation that would be!

The obstacles to (hah) “kinder and gentler” ways will be formidable, particularly when 300 billion dollars a year are at stake. In a TV interview Sunday, Secretary of Defense Cheney defended continuing billions for Star Wars (SDI) by asserting that in a few years, 15 nations will have intercontinental ballistic missiles. So, instead of ONE BIG FOE we will have FIFTEEN!

How's that for trumping the aces of a world that needs and wants to disarm! Will there be enough of us to say, “NO”? It would be instructive to live long enough to find out.

Is Anything Original?

October 25, 1989
Musings 1990

Sometime ago, but in this century, the term “psychosomatic” came into popular usage. The psychologists and writers pointed out that ills of the troubled mind – fear, stress, anxiety, guilt, etc. – could affect the health and proper functioning of the body.

But we did not have to wait for 20th century psychologists to become aware of this particular insight. In Act 2, Sc. 4, Shakespeare has King Lear say,

“We are not ourselves
When nature being oppressed,
commands the mind
to suffer with the body.”

Here, the Bard reminds us that physical ills have an effect mental stability. Other places, notably MacBeth, Shakespeare writes with matchless imagery how the unstable mind distresses the physical body. Lady MacBeth’s compulsive hand-washing cannot cleanse the overpowering guilt that destroys her.

Many times I am persuaded that we learn more from the poets, dramatists, and artists than from most academic tomes, even when they are thoroughly “researched.”

A question about process theology has reached me recently. This, too, is a modern term. But the foundation for process theology is as ancient as Heraclitus who proposed, “all is flux” (change).

Shakespeare possessed astonishing insight into why and how we behave as human beings. I know no person in any age who had such a wide and deep grasp of why and how we think, feel and act.

There have been numerous attempts to demonstrate that Shakespeare could not be the author of the magnificent array of tragedies, poems, comedies, and historical plays. The usual assertion is that this man from Stratford did not have the education or time to produce the superb corpus. Pointed out is that he was an actor, producer, business-man, and on and on. Various other men of that time are held to be the author of “Shakespeare.” The Earl of Rutland, the Earl of Oxford, or Francis Bacon have been named as the “author.” My good and dear friend in Rochester, Dave Rhys Williams, was thoroughly convinced that Christopher Marlowe was the author of “Shakespeare,” and David wrote a book to advance that claim.

Much of the difference of opinion centers on “how do you explain genius?” I don’t try. None of the various theories fully answer that question for me. But I do accept that “genius” is real and rare.

Consider if our sources were as incomplete about Beethoven as they are about Shakespeare. One could count on “scholarly” dissertations proving that Beethoven was not the composer. After all, it would be argued, Beethoven became deaf – and how possibly could a deaf man compose the 9th Symphony, the later quartets? But the historical reality is that Beethoven did compose these grand musical expressions.

The Proverbs say about work, “Go to the ant, thou sluggard.” To grasp the complexities of the human condition, go to the dramatist, the poet, the artist, and the composer, because at their best they reach to the heart of things both temporal and everlasting.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Jacob Was A Family Man – And How!

October 1989
Musings 1990
Jacob Was A Family Man – And How!
[Genesis, Chapter 29 and ff.]

Jacob, the son of Isaac, [and the] grandson of Abraham, is the legendary founder of the twelve tribes Israel.

He was a swindler, too. With the help of Rebekah, his mother, Jacob deprived his older brother, Esau, of Isaac’s blessing and inheritance. Jacob, in turn, was taken in by his father-in-law, Laban, who substituted plain Leah for beautiful Rachel in the marriage bed. In order to marry Rachel, Jacob had to work for Laban an additional seven years.

Then the old story becomes gamey indeed. Beautiful Rachel is barren; plain Leah is fertile. She gives birth to six sons, Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issacher, Zebulun and a daughter, Dinah. Rachel is troubled and angry because she has not conceived. So, she sends her handmaid, Bilhah, to Jacob’s bed more than once. Bilhah gives birth to sons, Dan and Naphtali. Not to be outdone in this battle of conceptions, Leah sends her handmaid, Zilpah, to Jacob’s bed and sons Gad and Asher were produced.

To put it rudely, both Leah and Rachel were pimping. But then, an ancient tribal culture prevailed; mores and morals were not what we would applaud today. Today, politicians get in big trouble for just one illicit sexual adventure (when they are found out). Jacob, seemingly, had no objection [to, nor] received any public criticism for, being served by four women (and I don't mean just meals).

Rachel eventually becomes fertile and gives birth to Joseph and Benjamin. Twelve sons, one daughter, four mothers, one sire!! The twelve sons, according to “scripture”, founded the twelve tribes of Israel. God renamed Jacob, “Israel”, and gave him the lands in such awful dispute today.

The story would make a great movie, except it would have to be X-rated. It was a soap opera in the twistings of the plot, but would not be acceptable on afternoon TV.

I’m puzzled how those who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible explain the morality of this sexual circus. The Bible ..., according to fundamentalists, is the “word of God,” the absolute guide to faith and morals. Would it be O.K., therefore, to adopt the life-style of Jacob, Leah, Rachel and the concubines?

There is fascination in this because Jacob encounters the Divine in the stories of Jacob’s Ladder and wrestling with the Angel. But never is Jacob reproved for his plurality of sexual partners, or, for that matter, condemned for his dishonest dealings with Esau and Laban.

One could rationalize and say that God waited until Moses to pronounce “thou shalt not steal” and “thou shalt not commit adultery.” But why did God wait so long, when he had an obvious case such as Jacob’s to issue such commandments?

There is comfort, frequently, as well as an occasional chuckle being agnostic and holding a literary and cultural view of the scriptures.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Understanding Without Acquiescence

May 30, 1988
Lakeland

Musings, 1990

President Reagan has just delivered a passionate speech to “Refuseniks” in Moscow. Surely few can condemn him for his candor in the call for the Soviets to widen the areas of free choice and permission to leave the USSR if that is the wish of many.

But there is room for historical understanding, much as we can fairly charge the Soviet government with tyranny over minorities. The Bolshevik Revolution successfully overthrew the Czarist regime seventy years ago. That imperial government allowed no liberties and cruelly oppressed the Russian people. The succeeding governments, led in turn by Kerensky, Lenin, Stalin and their successors, allowed few liberties but the people were better fed and housed than before. The USSR was a union of numerous ethnic and religious peoples. They loved Mother Russia enough to fight off Hitler's armies at human and national cost of which we are still insufficiently aware.

Can we consider the beam in our own eye as well as the mote in the Soviet? Seventy years after our Declaration of Independence there were hundreds of thousands of slaves. Women could not vote. We..fought an unjustified war against Mexico in order to seize the golden lands of the West. We were in the process of decades of treaty-breaking with the indigenous Americans, the Indians. We massacred most of them. Others we shipped to our “Gulags” – reservations. Many of the great American fortunes were amassed from the sweat of ill-paid labor and repression of workers’ rights.

One cannot change history. One cannot readily acquiesce that another century may elapse before the Soviet peoples achieve the human dignity and freedom of which we proudly boast.

Nevertheless a measure of humility would be appropriate if we concede that the first seventy years of the the Communist revolution have many parallels with the first seventy years of our American Revolution. The parallels are both heroic and ugly, both inspiring and shameful, both encouraging and depressing.

“Judge not that ye be not judged.”

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Blaze And The Stumble

Musings, 1990

(Copied from scrap notes found in a file)

The Blaze And The Stumble
July 1967

When walking the Appalachian Trail, one can go off course when there is failure to locate the next blaze: the white bar, sometimes arrow, painted on tree or boulder. But one can be a bruised and irritated hiker if one is guided only by the painted blaze of distant markings.

The trail is strewn frequently with talus and rocks – unsteadily balanced – accumulated or poised by the combined tensions of gravity, glacial debris, and ancient erosion. Many times the footings are sharp-side up or form an efficient trap for ankle or calf.

One must watch each step so that the foot will squarely counteract the lop-sided shift of eccentrically formed shale or schist. On rare occasions, I’m told, a poisonous snake may be sunning on the rocky slope, ready to respond aggressively to invasion of the territory he has pre-empted.

Watch your step lest you fall; but follow each successive blaze coming into view lest you become lost. On the trail one dwells very little on that abstract social achievement called “progress”. Rather, one thinks of the immediate sense experiences, the shortening distance to the shelter, a briefer wait for the fire, the food and that luxurious experience of rest after sweaty labor. But if you want to consider the experience on the trail a parable of progress. I have no objection.

Follow the blaze, but watch your step.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Introduction To Musings

I suppose if I were still somewhat active in the pulpit, some of these pieces might have been expanded for sermonic treatment. You will note the various dates. I have not attempted to re-write anything in light of subsequent events or developments. The pieces reflect my thought at the time of writing. The years accumulate – when you receive this, I will be in my eightieth year. So, primarily for family and a few close friends, I have put together (not “Mosses from an old Manse”) musings of an old man. If I offend objects of your reverence, too bad. Remember that I am I, just as You are You.

Carl J. Westman, 1990

P.S. - I decided to do these musings for you after Carl A. Westman gave me a Smith-Corona electronic typewriter. So thank (or blame) him too. Otherwise the pieces would have remained scrawled in little notebooks.

P.P.S. - The 1991 “batch” will be sent to those who make a request.

Sin, The Apple, And The Miss Of The Myth

March 12, 1989
Port Charlotte

March 19, 1989
Lakeland

Theology is hardly a prime-time favorite, and I am going to deal with differing theological proposals. (Incidentally, there is a saying current in seminaries, “One does theology” or “I do theology.” I find that a deplorable use of language. I don’t “do” a book, I read a book. I don’t “do” lunch, I eat lunch. But then many of you know how grumpy I am getting to be.)

I shall try to stimulate your theological thinking. Do not be unnecessarily alarmed. There was a 17th century literary figure who commented, “From time to time I try to be a philosopher, but cheerfulness keeps breaking in.” My paraphrase of that is, “from time to time I try to be a theologian, but cheerfulness keeps breaking in.”

My presentation divides this way:

1.The sin and the apple.
2.The miss of the myth – that is, a double use of “miss” - Eve is the Miss of the myth. But the miss of the myth is to blame Eve.
3.How recent scholarly research demonstrates the controversial debates of early Christian thinkers, and how as a political as well as theological consequence, the view prevailed that sex was sin.
4.There are tendencies in human urges, motives, and actions that might make us face up [to] the human enterprise with more stark realism and more unflinching appraisal. And that may be another level of the myth.

First, the sin and the apple. The Adam and Eve story is a myth. The story is not history with a moral, but a myth with a meaning. A myth is not history, but a story, usually with parallels in other religions, that attempts to explain why we are what we are, what “makes us tick.” Myths are “why” stories – why the serpent crawls on its belly, why women must give birth in pain and suffering, why men must toil and sweat to earn their bread, and why and how death came into the world.

“Original sin” is a keystone in the Christian architecture of salvation. Because Adam sinned, we have inherited depravity, and death came into the world. We are all sinners and cannot save ourselves. But God, in his mercy, incarnated himself as Jesus Christ, who atoned for the sins of humankind by his sacrificial death on the cross. Only Jesus could do this because he, and he alone, had no human father, and therefore did not inherit Adam’s sin.

What is “sin?” If one checks out various theological interpretations, one encounters increasing ambiguity rather than greater clarity. A theological word book of the Bible uses three or four column pages discussing the meanings and cultural contexts of the word “sin” when used in Jewish scripture.

Jewish theology has held that sin is disobedience to God (Yahveh), rather than limiting sin to Adam and Eve’s discovery and practice of sexual intercourse. Yehezkel Kaufmann, an eminent Jewish scholar, described the Adam and Eve story as an ancient myth from a non-Israeli source, a myth from older cultures.

Kaufmann and many others recognized the problem of reconciling the origin of evil when one worships an all-powerful creator – one God, monotheism. Was Yahveh then the creator of evil? How [can we] reconcile the problem of evil with a just, merciful Creator? (Theodicy)

The Judaic solution hinged on human freedom. Men and women had to recognize that theirs was the choice between good and evil. Freedom has no meaning if persons do not have choices within the power and range of human effort and experience. B. D. Napier wrote eloquently,

“... Lord, it is our nature
(you ought to know who mixed the hot ingredients)
to spurn the docile role of subjugation;
to be not merely creature but creator;
to stand alone: to cherish in ourselves
all requisite resources for renewal;
to mount with wings as eagles
to run and not be weary
to walk and not faint.”

My own view is that in the biological transition, whether you call it evolution or some other name, humans developed mental capacities of reflection, hope, guilt, and acute awareness that we live and we die. In what we call animal instinct, there seems to be no division between external perceptions and internal feelings and judgments. Humans have principles, goals, and rules. When we miss the mark (another definition of “sin”), when we fail, we are conscious of it. We are not congenitively depraved; but by nature and nurture we are humanly sensitive.

What of the apple? Why not an orange, lemon, pear, or tomato? If the apple was such an embodiment of the act of sinning, why have I heard from childhood that “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”? True, there has been a scare this week about apples sprayed with “Alar”. Although the case may not be fully resolved, the weight of opinion seems to be that the danger, if any, was exaggerated when the news first broke. There is a citation I tried to find, unsuccessfully, but I have a memory of a lecturer pointing out that the Hebrew word translated “apple” can also translate “evil” with minor change in vowel and context.

The apple persisted as the fruit which caused sin. There is a story about Angelo Cardinal Roncalli, who later became Pope John XXIII, “good Pope John”. When he was Papal Legate in Paris, he attended a fashionable dinner and was seated opposite a lady whose gown was low-cut in front. When dessert was served, the Cardinal offered a shiny apple to the lady. She declined, but he persisted and finally she asked him, “why?” He answered, “It wasn’t until Eve ate the apple that she realized how little she had on.”

This leads to the second point, “the Miss of the myth.” Eve is the Miss of the myth because the Genesis account does not report any clergy or Justice of the Peace on hand to perform a legal wedding service. Eve has been blamed for tempting Adam. Blame the woman! French detective stories had a cliché, “cherchez la femme” - find the woman. Recall all the put-downs of Eliza by Professor Higgins in “My Fair Lady.” Consider all the roving husbands whose “pass” was prefaced by “my wife doesn’t understand me.” Remember all the years of strife and pain women had to endure in our own country to acquire the right to vote. Any woman among you could extend the list on and on. Remember Adam’s alibi, “the woman Thou gavest me, SHE gave me of the fruit of the tree and I ate it.”

The causes of ages of discrimination are complex. That, too, is the miss of the myth – miss in the order of meaning: error, mistake, shortcoming. The ancient and frequently prehistoric myths and stories were altered and eventually written down by men. God was a father-god. The older dominance of religion by female gods was suppressed, written out by patriarchal religion, particularly in the monotheistic religions – Judaism, Islam, and Christianity.

But ancient undercurrents still flowed, although many times obscured. The elementary, prehistoric female gods had many names in the lands we call the near-East: Ishtar in Mesopotamia, Ashtoreth in Syria and Palestine, Astarte in Babylon, Isis in Egypt and Rome. She was often worshiped as the “Queen of Heaven.”

Jeremiah, that stern Hebrew patriarchal prophet (44/2) complained that Hebrew women were baking cakes for the Queen of Heaven. Is it coincidence, or the undercurrent surfacing again and again, that Mary, the mother of Jesus, is dearly beloved by Roman Catholics, and she, too, is sometimes prayed to as the Queen of Heaven? And as the Mother of God?

This brings the third point: how recent scholarly research demonstrates that in the early Christian centuries, there was much controversy before the authoritarian church proclaimed that sexual intercourse was the sin of Adam and Eve.

ADAM, EVE, AND THE SERPENT, by Elaine Pagels (Random House, 1988) is a most illuminating study illustrating how the nature of original sin was controversial for nearly 400 years in Christian church history. Dr. Elaine Pagels is a faculty member at Princeton University Seminary, a theological school in the Presbyterian tradition. Her book of a few years ago, THE GNOSTIC GOSPELS, attracted much praise and respect for her scholarship. Some of you may have recently seen her on Bill Moyers’ PBS interview program.

As she writes in the introduction, “If any of us could come to our own culture as a foreign anthropologist and observe traditional Christian attitudes toward sexuality and gender and how we view human nature in relation to politics, philosophy, and psychology, we might well be astonished at the attitudes we take for granted. Augustine, one of the greatest teachers of Western Christianity, derived many of these attitudes from the story of Adam and Eve: that sexual desire is sinful; that infants are infected from the moment of conception with the disease of original sin; and that Adam’s sin corrupted the whole of nature itself. Even those who think of Genesis as literature, and those who are not Christian, live in a culture indelibly shaped by such interpretations as these.” (XIX)

The early centuries of Christian history were marked by struggle, internal conflicts, making converts, persecuted at times by the Roman Empire (although times of persecution were more scattered than popularly believed). Eventually, under Emperor Constantine, Christianity became the official state religion.

Up to that time, the Garden of Eden story had not been interpreted as the sin of sexual desire and sexual intercourse. As Pagels writes, “Christians regarded freedom as the primary message of Genesis 1-3 – freedom in its many forms, including free will, freedom from demonic powers, freedom from tyrannical government and from fate, and self-mastery as the source of such freedom.” (XXV) There were many sources for such an appraisal but, because of time limitations, we must leap forward to Augustine and his principal opponents, Pelagius and Julian of Eclanum.

Pelagius, a pious monk from Britain, argued that death did not come to the human race as a consequence of Adam’s fall, but that death was in the nature of things. As against Augustine’s position, Pelagius asserted that “ ‘our will cannot affect the course of nature. Christians are free to make moral choices and moral decisions.’ ... God being just would not have punished anyone but Adam for what Adam had done; certainly he would not condemn the whole race for one man’s transgression.” (Pagels, pp. 129, 131)

Julian of Eclanum, bishop of a small town in southern Italy, pursued similar arguments, e.g., “As for original sin, the merit of one single person is not such that it would change the structure of the universe itself.” (Pagels, p. 133)

Augustine’s arguments seem both unsound and awkward. He denies any human capacity for free will. Not only that, Augustine had neurotic sexual hangups, in my opinion (read his CONFESSIONS). He had only contempt for those who regarded sexual desire as natural energy, calling it “diabolical excitement of the genitals.” (Pagels, p. 140) Today, some of his arguments are astonishing, to say the least. “... male semen itself already shackled by the bond of death transmits the damage incurred by sin.” (Pagels, p. 109) Hence, Augustine concludes every human being ever conceived though male semen is already contaminated with sin.

I do not want to sell-short the power of sexuality, particularly in our time when sexuality is erotically flamboyant in TV, girlie magazines, underwear ads, just for a short list. A poll in 1958 revealed that Patrick Henry’s “give me liberty or give me death” had become the second-best known quote in American history. Only Mae West’s “come up and see me sometime” was more famous (see AMERICAN AGE, Walter LaFeber, p. 54).

Why did Augustine prevail? Why did his arguments on original sin become official doctrine? Both the church (by this time authoritarian) and the imperial Empire were linked. Both wanted obedient citizens. If the people were taught officially they were pre-destined sinners, that they did not possess the capacity for choice, religious or political, they were not apt to be rebellious. The doctrine of original sin made persons more accepting, less questioning, of church authority or state authority. Thus, Augustine prevailed, the church prevailed, the state prevailed. Freedom of choice, the right to make moral choices, was squashed for centuries.

Why was it easy for such a hopeless doctrine to prevail? Pagels offers a proposition that should interest psychologists and analysts, “people would rather feel guilty than helpless.” (p. 146) How many times in the face of accident, disaster, or misfortune, have you heard a person say, or perhaps said this yourself, “What did I ever do to deserve this?” Searching for a reason to feel guilty rather than powerless? “Why me?” To the sufferer, Augustine said, you personally are not to blame for what has come upon you; the blame goes back to our father, Adam, and our mother, Eve. Nevertheless you are guilty of their sin because you inherited their depravity. How about it, professionals in the field, would we rather feel guilty or powerless?

There has been a vast volume of Christian literature on original sin. In our Unitarian and Universalist traditions, it was revolt against this Augustinian doctrine of sin-diseased humanity that largely created our movements. Our positions were that human nature was basically good, or had the power to do good. All souls were of worth, not depraved, and would be saved.

Psychoanalysts and psychologists have interpreted the myth of Eden in their own disciplines according to varying appraisals of human nature. Freud, Theodore Reik, Karl Abraham, Roheim, Rank, and others have explored the myth. I have little competence and no time to study and appraise their assumptions and conclusions. But the important point is that so many have felt this myth of Eden to be of substantial importance in our understanding of ourselves.

But in the time I have left, I want to look at the old myth as confronting us with the disasters created by power gone awry.

[Editor’s note: At this point, page 9 (of 11) is missing. In its place is a second copy of page 10]

... political power never seem to quote:

“The care of the public must oversway ALL private respects.”

“We should be willing to abridge ourselves of superfluities for the supply of others’ necessities.”

Now I trust I am not hopelessly naïve. Any candidate who ran on a platform of [John] Winthrop’s last two proposals couldn’t be elected dog-catcher, as they say. Would you vote for him/her? Would I? All groups want some variety of dominion; a myth not of “original” sin, but persisting sin. Much more than individuals usually, groups in power will not only resist yielding power but also will hunger and plea for more and more power.

A medieval monk, shocked by the corruption of many monasteries, formulated his “law of the monastic cycle”: “Discipline begets abundance; and abundance, unless we take the utmost care, destroys discipline; and discipline in its fall pulls down abundance.” That is a process that extends beyond monastic cycles. It is the process by which nations, empires, and economic systems rise, become corrupted, and fall. To quote Henry Adams, “power is poison.”

“Salvation by character” was a Unitarian principle in the 19th and early 20th centuries. To put it another way, you were saved by the kind of person you were, the principles to which you were faithful, the way you behaved toward others. With the huge size of governments, communications media, corporations and their economic systems, the constantly growing world population, individual salvation by character, however fulfilling for an individual, cannot suffice to mitigate the centralities of corrupt power.

To quote Niebuhr from another of his books (THE CHILDREN OF LIGHT AND THE CHILDREN OF DARKNESS), “Man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible; but man’s inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary.”

The philosopher Karl Jaspers and a Swiss jurist were discussing democracy. Both agreed that it was beyond doubt the best form of government. The jurist commented, “thus we must worship the state.” Jaspers rejoined, “What! Must I worship the monster, too?” Institutions, particularly governments and all their extensions of grasping power, are not idols to be worshiped, but agreements to be audited, checked, monitored, and constantly reformed. Otherwise, history instructs us that there will be revolution. Revolutions for the most part just change the names and faces of those in power who hold and abuse excess power with a different set of slogans.

I have much over-used my time. You may ask, am I completely overwhelmed by the poor prospect of most humankind? I take hope in a sentence by religious writer and teacher, Martin Marty, “We do not know enough about the future to be absolutely pessimistic.”