Saturday, May 21, 2016

Baseball’s why God gave us grandchildren.

It doesn’t feel like spring yet in Wyoming but it is. How can you tell? Because it’s opening day for children playing baseball. They only do that in the spring. No less an expert than the late Major League Baseball Commissioner Bart Giamatti said so in his famous poem about the game. “The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again.”

For grandparents, baseball “begins again,” as their grandchildren begin playing ball.

This spring our family is part of the Great American Pastime. We’ve joined hundreds of grandparents in a timeless ritual. This year it’s our grandchildren’s turn to learn to play. My grandson is six years old. It’s the beginning of a long career leading to the majors. Well, who knows but it is a family tradition. 

My dad, his siblings and their parents were migrant farm workers. Summers and falls were for working the fields between Texas and Colorado. But springtime was for baseball. Dad was good enough to play semi-pro ball and the love of the game never departed his soul.

Baseball was in his DNA and genetically passed along to his children. Baseball was an important part of our lives. We played Little League, collected baseball cards religiously, and sat down as a family to watch the “Game of the Week” each Saturday. It was the only baseball game televised in those days. With no team in the Mountain Time Zone, it was also the only chance we had to actually see Mickey Mantle, Roberto Clemente, Warren Spahn or the others. We leaned more about math from analyzing their statistics than we did in school.

In the old days, there weren’t a gazillion playoff games before the World Series. The first place team in each league played in the World Series, which ended before the snow began falling.

Those were the days before Major League Baseball became addicted to the big money television contracts. Back then, the World Series was played during the daytime. School classrooms stopped what they were doing so that teachers and students could watch every game.

During the early days of our childhood we lived in a small house on 17th street in Cheyenne next door to a vacant lot. It was our baseball field. Each day after our dads got off, we played a sandlot game lasting until the sun fell so low the hitter couldn’t see the pitch. 

It was our “Field of Dreams.” If you shared the experience of playing ball with your father, you, like I, got a little teary as Kevin Costner’s movie character Ray Kinsella recognizes the ghost-like figure standing at home plate is his long departed father John. Ray regrets the two, like most sons and fathers, had unresolved issues when John died. Those issues dissolve as father and son get one last chance at a game of catch. The emotional scene leaves us all dreaming about what it would be like to play one more round of catch with a long-departed father. “If you build it he will come.”

Baseball’s why God gave us grandchildren. We get another shot at the game. We watch them and remember what it was like to don the uniform that makes you part of the team and head for the diamond. We watch them work with a coach, realizing suddenly the game doesn’t come naturally. It has inexplicable rules. You can overrun first base but not second or third. A foul ball is a strike except when you already have two strikes. Forget teaching six year-olds the intricacies of force-outs. That’ll come later as will hitting the cut off man.

There are only two purposes now. One, make sure these kids like the game, have fun, learn sportsmanship, and want to come back next spring. The second is about grandpa’s heart. Baseball, Bart Giammatti’s poem claims, “breaks your heart.” He was wrong. My heart certainly didn’t break watching my grandson walk onto the field of his dreams on opening day.

“Play Ball!”

Friday, May 20, 2016

Burning witches at the stake-a time-honored American tradition

Burning witches at the stake is a time-honored American tradition. Each generation finds some form of witch to burn at their stake. This generation seems especially obsessed at maintaining the tradition. Otherwise Donald Trump would not be leading in the polls.

It’s a practice that started not long after illegal 17th century immigrants began arriving from Europe. They came to avoid the religious intolerance they experienced there in order to impose their own forms of religious intolerance here. As they stepped off the boat, the oppressed became the oppressor.

Stacy Schiff, a Pulitzer Prize winning writer, chronicled the 1600’s ordeal in “The Witches-Salem 1692.” Schiff’s book is an unpleasant read in the midst of the growing American witch-hunts aimed at Muslims, immigrants, and transgender people.

The book jacket prepares us to understand why Salem’s experience has continued relevance. “With devastating clarity, the textures and tensions of colonial life emerge, hidden patterns suddenly, startlingly detach themselves from the darkness.”

It is especially noteworthy that the core of Salem’s witch-hunts was unwelcomed religious tolerance. One Puritan preacher of the day told his flock that religious tolerance “qualified as a satanic idea.”

Abuse of Christian scripture was the bedrock of those beliefs. Discerning God’s will was their preoccupation. They knew the saved, like the damned, had been selected before birth. Their duty was to make certain the two didn’t mix. They maintained a “holy watchfulness” over one another.

That sounds like what some folks are talking about when they cheer the end of what they call “political correctness.”

Witchcraft raptures political correctness. It disappears into the clouds. Bigots are no longer confined to using socially acceptable words when speaking of others. They can call it as they see it even if that means overtly targeting Muslims, gays, trans people, poor people, or racial minorities. There’s no need to learn more about others when a leading presidential candidate ratifies your prejudices and notions. Witchcraft thrives on resentments while offering explanations for the perceived slights visited upon majority white, Christian, heterosexual males.

Intolerant Americans are being “radicalized.” Read the home-grown bigotry in your neighbor’s online comments following the recent Wyoming Tribune-Eagle story of Sheriff Dannie Glick’s warning about alleged terror cells in Wyoming. “Sorry,” said one anonymously, “To color Islamists as being near equal to Christians isn't going to work. They're all stone age creatures.”

Another local citizen wrote, “How about a "Muslim Watch" program like Neighborhood Watch?”

The Red Scare did the same in the 1950s. Joe McCarthy didn’t actually burn victims at the stake. He manufactured hatred. Dozens took their own lives. Among them was Wyoming Senator Lester Hunt. Thousands more lost careers and families.

With that history and the lessons it taught, how shockingly easy it’s been to go there again. We said, “Never again.” But it’s as though some Americans feel this is their once-in-a-lifetime chance to do unto others as the Puritans taught.

According to the Anti-Defamation League’s Center on Extremism, dozens of hate crimes have been committed in the United States against American Muslims in recent weeks.

Arsonists target Mosques. A woman who threw hot coffee in the faces of Muslims during their prayers. Bus passengers in Seattle attacked a Muslim man. A Muslim storeowner in New York was beaten severely by someone yelling, “I kill Muslims.” In a Wyoming community, bacon was thrown at a man erroneously thought to be Muslim. Muslims are removed from airplanes because they make Americans “uncomfortable.”

The targets were American citizens.

Where is the humanity in making others fearful as a way of assuaging our own fears? Imagine yourself as one of those against whom our fears are being taken out. Imagine what it’s like to be an American-Muslim not knowing when an angry, fearful person will accost you or your children on the streets, in the grocery store, at your place of worship or in your own home.

Then imagine how much harder it would be to “radicalize” young Muslims if Americans welcomed peaceful people of their faith.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Time to rewrite the Bible?

The current debate about which bathrooms transgender folks may use is the last straw. The time has come. The Christian canon or Bible must be revised.

“Canon” derives from a Greek word referring to a standard of measurement. Religious canons are standards against which people measure their faith, writings believed authoritative within that faith.

For 2000 years the Christian authoritative writings include the New Testament. But that canon has apparently proved too difficult to understand for many Christians. There’s a part of “love your neighbor” they’ve not been able to grasp. “Judge not, lest you be judged,” confounds people accustomed to helping God with quality control. Some employ the Christian canon as a weapon, beating others over the head with it, quoting it to support notions and prejudices about women, the poor, persons of other faiths, racial minorities, gays, lesbians, and transgender people.

The New Testament must simply not be clear enough. Jesus’s message about turning the other cheek and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you has been lost on too many Christians.

For some, the Book has become a graven image of God, an idol. Jesus said, “Love your neighbor as yourself” and then departed. Some tired of waiting for his return. If he isn’t coming back, they feel the need to judge others in his stead. As the children of Israel crafted a golden calf when they tired of waiting for Moses, these Christians have their own idol.

Jesus said you couldn’t serve two masters. You cannot serve God and the Bible simultaneously. You’ll be, as Matthew 6:24 says, “devoted to the one and despise the other.” If you use the Bible to justify marginalizing some of God’s children, you’ve chosen the Book of God over the God of the Book.

There were ancient believers who thought it a mistake to reduce the rich oral history of the faith to writing. They argued that once you write about God, you are making God in your own image. They thought it was supposed to be the other way around. 

Those who wanted a written canon won the argument. Criteria were established to determine which writings would be canonized. Canonical writings must have withstood the test of time and have been accepted by a sufficient number of people to be considered worthy.

As Christians consider a new canon, that criterion seems helpful. Cervantes’s “Don Quixote” or Manzoni’s “The Betrothed” might qualify but Franklin Graham’s sermons and Pat Robertson’s prophecies would not.

To be considered, books should have a clear message. God loves all the children. Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in God’s sight. God loves them all including those who are gay, lesbian, transgender, Muslim, Buddhist, uncertain, or atheist.

Who would be on the decision-making committee? Jesus’s choice, I’m guessing, would be people on the margins of life. Membership would be open to the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers.

It would be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for most politicians, TV preachers, or Wall Street predators to be at the table. There’d be prostitutes but no one who questions why prostitutes were participating. There’d be addicts and others who were hurting, homeless or hungry. There’d be refugees but no one who built walls to keep them away. Lazarus would be there but not the rich man. Neither gender nor sexual identity would bar anyone from taking part. There’d be people of every faith and those with none.

Seated at this table would be only those who could imagine no countries, nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too. They could imagine no possessions, no need for greed or hunger but instead a brotherhood and sisterhood of God’s creation sharing the world.

Imagine. Imagine the standard these folks would establish for measuring our faith in God and one another.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Did Jesus say, "I am the way"?

After using a series of metaphors to describe himself as “the bread of life,” a “door” or a “gate,” and “the Good Shepherd,” Jesus, a devout Jew, said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.”

“Is Jesus the only way?” That’s this month’s question in a series of columns Rev. Bob Norris and I are offering to explain differences between liberal and conservative Christians.

A foundational difference between most conservatives and most liberals is the role of Biblical scholarship. Liberals value research that begins with the text and looks beyond it into the history, linguistics, and culture of the people who wrote the Bible and the language in which it was written.

Conservatives often reject Biblical scholarship because it frequently challenges a strict interpretation of scripture, the anchor of their beliefs. Liberals rejoice in Biblical scholarship believing it’s the key to unlocking the meaning.

Trying to understand scripture without looking beyond it is like trying to see a scenic meadow through a wall instead of a window. Looking through that window has not always been welcomed. Scholarship didn’t become a part of Bible studies until the mid 19th century. Before then archeology was designed only to back strict interpretation of the Bible. After Darwin’s “The Origin of the Species,” Biblical scholars were persecuted. Some lost their preaching or teaching jobs. Others suffered church trials.

After World War II Biblical scholarship was resuscitated. Seminaries chose sides. Some retained fundamentalist teachings. Others were open to where science, anthropology, archeology, linguistics, and other disciplines led.

The most influential development was the Jesus Seminar, a group of 150 esteemed scholars and laypersons. Having arrived at this work with years of study, the Jesus Seminar spent additional years looking at the Gospels. They aimed to discern when and where each was written, by whom and to what purpose, studying the influences at work and the messages each word intended to convey.

A profound part of this endeavor led scholars to distinguish “Jesus” from “Christ.” There’s a discernible difference between what Jesus said before the crucifixion and the words attributed to him afterward when he became “the Christ.”

The Jesus Seminar produced what is called the Scholars’ Version of the Gospels. They color-coded the words of Jesus. Words in red indicate that, in the opinion of the scholars, these words are unequivocally the words of Jesus.

Words believed, “with some reservation,” to be those of Jesus are printed in pink. Gray signifies words that probably weren’t spoken by Jesus but are useful in determining who Jesus was.

Black lettering means the scholars concluded “Jesus did not say this; it represents the perspective or content of a later or different tradition.”

The Jesus Seminar published "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me” in black letters. Most scholars believe these words reflect “early Christian circles.” During the early days of the church, Jesus followers were separating theologically from the Jewish community of which many were a part. The “I am” sayings are employed to explain why they chose to follow Jesus.

Though the words are attributed to the Jewish rabbi, conservative Christians argue, “I am the way,” means Christianity is the gatekeeper to God. Liberal Christians reject this exclusionary view. There is one God but there are many paths leading to that God. Christianity is not the only way. Jesus’ way, however, is, though it’s a way expressed as much in the Hebrew Bible, the Quran, Upanishads, or Bhagavad Gita as in the Gospels.

For example, Matthew’s Jesus speaks. “Do unto others what you want them to do to you.” The way of Jesus is expressed similarly in Islam where Muhammad taught, “That which you want for yourself, seek for mankind,” and among Hindus, “One should never do to another which one regards as injurious to one’s self.”

In other words, you can follow the way of Jesus without being a Christian.

Medicaid expansion, tobacco, and seatbelts

It is possible to significantly reduce state budgets without slashing programs for the poor and elderly. What if the legislature crafted an effective public health policy? Avoidable health problems are costly. Good public policy reduces the impacts on lives and budgets.

The costs of preventable health problems trickle down. Health insurance premiums rise. Taxpayers pay for those who choose not to buy insurance or have incomes so low they cannot afford coverage.

The legislature’s piecemeal approach to health policy is not based on data and science but a senseless brand of libertarianism and partisan politics permitting people to endanger themselves, their children, and others.

The Wyoming Department of Health employs the best and brightest minds working on health issues. They study data and know the science. Within their area of expertise each could inform legislators on healthcare solutions.

These experts are rarely asked. Legislators without expertise in health matters draft bills and debate them, playing fast and loose with the facts. Most lawmakers are less interested in accurate data and science than in playing politics with the lives of their constituents.

The Labor, Health and Social Services Committee is again “studying” healthcare. Rep. Elaine Harvey, Committee co-chair, said the study wouldn’t include expanding Medicaid to cover 20,000 uninsured Wyoming people.

I repeat. Most legislators are less interested in accurate data and science than in playing politics with the lives of their constituents. If they were interested in real solutions, they’d address the uninsured, seatbelt laws and tobacco use.

Making sure people have health insurance is the cornerstone to health planning. The Institute of Medicine says, “Evidence from the scientific literature overwhelmingly shows that those without health insurance, children as well as adults, suffer worse health and die sooner than those who have coverage.” Uninsured adults suffer a 25% higher mortality rate than the insured. The misery falls on the sick but those costs fall on the taxpayers.

Certain diseases compound the risk. Uninsured cancer patients die within five years twice as often as the insured, much of which is tobacco-related. Despite consistent science showing the enormous amount of suffering and costs attributed to tobacco use, legislators appear more obligated to tobacco growers than to their constituents.

Tobacco is a high-cost killer.  The American Cancer Society says a quarter of a billion Wyoming taxpayer dollars are spent annually on tobacco-caused illnesses. Legislators claiming concern about Medicaid costs ignore tobacco costs Wyoming’s Medicaid budget $45 million a year.
Can legislators do something to reduce tobacco-related costs? Yes, if they heed science rather than tobacco lobbyists and increase the legal age to buy cigarettes, ban smoking in public facilities, and raise tobacco taxes.

Wyoming taxes tobacco at a lower rate than all but 10 other states. If we doubled the 60-cent tax we’d get into the middle of the pack. ACS projects a $1.25 per pack tax generates 23.26 million in annual revenues.

More important is the impact on smokers. Forty-five hundred adults would quit, priced out of smoking. Approximately forty-seven hundred kids wouldn’t start smoking if cigarettes cost more.

Choices? Science or lobbyists? Life or death?

Serious efforts to lower healthcare costs demand an effective seatbelt law. Wyoming has a limp secondary law. You can’t be cited for failure to buckle-up unless stopped for another offense. As a result, Wyoming has one of the highest traffic fatality rates in the U.S. In 2012, more than half of those killed on state highways weren’t buckled up.

A 2014 Transportation Research Institute study found fatalities rise radically when states choose secondary seatbelt enforcement. That’s the science. But legislators listen most to the foolish suggestion that requiring seatbelts is government interference with freedom, however much their lives or the lives of their children may be shortened as a result.

When legislators feign concern about high costs of healthcare, ask what they’re doing to lower costs. Are they making certain people are insured, reducing use of tobacco, and buckling up?

We reap what we sow. Improving people’s health reaps a huge harvest.