Is God Scarce?

“The quest for inner knowledge is rarely a popular one. It is too far afield of common interests and arouses the suspicion of those who fear and hate anything beyond their own horizons.” —Richard Smoley from Inner Christianity
What do you consider valuable? Is it something limited and precious or unlimited and boundless? Is it a thing that can be counted and sequestered away, hoarded and kept under lock, or not a ‘thing’ at all? What is the value of your spirit? What price would you put on God? Can we somehow lose either or are our essential possessions inseparable from us?

I recently had dinner with a Rabbi friend; we discussed the emerging spirituality1 of our time over beer and pizza, the ultimate Kosher foods. We exist in a very linear time based society; yet, it’s usually moot to connect a ‘time’ to ‘spirituality’. Spirituality isn’t necessarily something that is directly bound to or dependent on time. However, in this case, time is paramount…and may simultaneously still have no bearing. It’s all part of the paradox of our spiritual understandings as we can’t necessarily parse spirituality in a logical manner. I can sit here and dissect the history of spiritual thought and analyse my own; but, in doing so, the life of it is easily lost. However, our personal and societal understanding of spiritual growth and emergence is set in time.

We spoke about various waves of spiritual understanding throughout history—the windows of enlightenment and the drastic measures taken to close them by power-hungry people. The Desert Fathers and the Gnostics were too mystical and directly connected in their understanding of God; they were suppressed by the power of hierarchal thought. The opening of the Reformation gave way to the rationalisation of the Renaissance and the need to codify and explain spirituality.

People (in this and every age) want simplicity; they want a clarified and scripted version of spiritual reality. It removes the need for effort and time. We are in the age of instant everything; there is no surprise that people expect instant faith and spirit. As a side note, one of the criticisms of The Emergent Church and ‘modern’ faith in general is that it does not provide enough structure. Critics say, ‘it’s just a mis-mash of froofy faith with no real foundations.’ I would counter that faith is not at all about structure; religion, yes, but faith is about finding one’s own path to the Divine presence in everyday life. One needs only enough structure to open a space to walk that path. This is part of the reason I feel increasingly drawn to a Quaker consideration of faith.

How much time do we have to reach a common state of spiritual enlightenment before our spirits are irrevocably harmed? I believe we are in a middle state holding something with terrific power; perhaps something far more potent than any weapon we can devise. We have our hands on the red buttons of spirituality and lean upon them with random ignorance. I don’t know that ‘actual’ tangible damage is at hand; but there are strong hints toward this possibility. I think the parallels between weapons of mass destruction and spirituality are valid; both harness potent energies that can be used for some constructive purpose (give me some leeway with nuclear power here) or channelled into the most destructive forms imaginable. I sense right now that energy is building and only hope that it’s harnessed by the opening of our spiritual understanding.

A few weeks ago, I overheard a conversation about the war in Afghanistan (though, of course, it wasn’t really about that; the particular circumstances are only a mask for much deeper issues). The statement this man made was so shocking to me I didn’t know how to respond and missed the moment to acknowledge that I and probably many others think this is distasteful to say the least. He said (in reference to Afghanistan):

I think we should just nuke the place; make it all into a desert. All those people want is war and they’ll keep fighting till the last kid throwing a rock is dead. We are going to keep sending our boys over there…and they are just going to keep getting killed for no good reason. There is nothing there worth anything anyway.

This was said by someone who proports to be a believing Christian and holds a Bible study at his house (maybe he’s been focusing too much on those Old Testament passages where The Children of Israel are given licence to wipe out whole tribes and peoples). Later that evening I thought of what to say: that, obviously, in any war there are people who want nothing of it and are caught in the middle. That the enthusiasm of war isn’t always played out in the quiet rooms of home; parades and propaganda are for the street and that’s what we see on television. That war is not simply a conflict of ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ but a continuum of situations that may lead to conflict. We seem to forget that every time we are in disagreement with someone. Also, more to the point, we must find a way to resolve our differences without resorting to violence. Yet we seem to become more polarised and ‘game oriented’ in war (in that someone must ‘win’ and someone must ‘loose’; if we try to stay in Afghanistan till we ‘win’ we probably will have to level the place and wipe it all ‘clean’). I should have said to him, ‘I personally do not agree with what you have said; are you going to kill me now? Does the very fact that I think differently than you give you cause strike me down?’

But this is the place we are in; most of our conflict at every level is over ideas and ideals (as, essentially, it’s always been). It’s just that now we have an opportunity to massively magnify this conflict in both the physical and spiritual realms. We are at a point of emergency; the emergence of a potent force of spirituality and we are both energised and frightened with the possibilities. My concern is that there is an open route here to aim this spiritual energy in a direction that is superbly harmful.

Much of this comes down to a concept of spiritual scarcity; we’re making decisions based on a materialistic view of the spirit. Much of what this man said reflects an understanding of a material god. Every Christmas there is a ‘necessary toy’ that every child must have; however, there are only a limited number of them, so anxious parents queue outside the store in hopes of purchasing one. We’ve given over to the same view of God; God all packaged up in paper and plastic on the shelf. When the doors open, we think we must rush in and pluck off a box of God before they are all gone. We don’t have an expansive and abundant view of God; we hide our concept of God away with jealousy because there is not enough to go around to anyone else and we are willing to use violence to protect our little paper boxes. (Note that ‘we’ here is not just ‘us’. I’m meaning that this is the trend of Fundamentalism and staid religious thought across the board).

We now find ourselves in a place where God is running out and we have the physical and spiritual weapons to ‘protect’ this concept of a scarce God. I suppose my question is how can we (how can I) foster the idea of a shared spirit of abundance before we hit that button that leaves little opportunity to do so afterward?

Of course, I have to consider my own comprehension of an abundant God; I’ve traversed a wide span of understanding here. I think, at one time, I believed God was super-abundant but limited in scope; that there was more than enough ‘God in store’ but that only certain people had access. Now I’m leaning more towards an unlimited abundance—that God is not someone who is contained at all. This is my emerging concept (not that I’m the first one to think it; but the idea is working its way past my logical brain into my spirit and there are sometimes barriers there). My hope is that I can have clarity with my beliefs of God and our interrelations enough that, when I’m in situations such as the one with the ‘nuke the bastards’ man mentioned above, my response is one of peace and wisdom. It’s far too simple to respond with a counter-argument or feed hostility with hostility. I believe what needs to emerge with us all is a spirit of peace when all seems polarised and contrary. If not we will repeat these cycles seen throughout history; but, this time, with amplified results. I pray we can magnify hope and harmony instead.

1 Note that I’m not necessarily referring to The Emergent Church which is a somewhat distinct though associated concept.

Always coming and going

I’m befuddled by words; by their sparsity when called for and their sometimes overabundance. They are such potent packets of potential; a turn of a word can save souls or send everything into oblivion. I doubt I’ll ever be master of them and right now feel they may have bested me; but unlike a competition where there is a clear path from play to victory or loss, I can’t seem to understand the rules of the game. I feel like I have the wrong gear for the field I am on; that I may have injured another player and lack protection where an errant ball may strike sorely.
8 July…slowly finding the words that resolve the life that words sometimes abuse.

Agency

Some further thought on my previous entry.

I’m not suggesting the creation of a journalist elite class; my thought is that ‘Journalist Citizens’ would be a hybrid between journalists as we understand them now and ombudsmen (think UN special observers). They would be (ideally) distinct from national or editorial demands that might overtly or inadvertently influence the story. This would probably necessitate an independent news agency in Iceland that would act as both a sending agency and repository for the information gathered (it’s just taking the IMMI concept a few steps further than proposed).

This is, of course, idealistic; a special passport is not necessarily going to gain access to a radical madrassa or protect a journalist from harm. However, I think the overall concept has merit both in the present and future. There is a need for neutral observers in our highly polarised and market driven society (and again, I’m speaking from an American perspective noting that there are yet excellent media here and elsewhere). But to look beyond the present, there will be a need for recognised neutral observation fifty or a hundred years in the future. The analogy that comes to mind are the seed banks built to house pure strains of the world’s plant stock. Yes, there is abundant access to these plants now; but the time may come where we need to reference an unaltered seed set aside. We need a ‘seed bank of journalism’ somewhere that is dedicated to the most neutral observation of the present so we can reference and contrast at some point in the future.

Also, I’m not sure this isn’t happening now; obviously responsible journalists and publications rigourously research and then archive their stories; opening another news agency in remote Iceland won’t suddenly plant a beacon of truth superseding previous attempts at journalistic excellence. What it might do is establish a new set of independent benchmarks beyond editorial boundaries set by national and corporate constraints. I don’t want to get overtly cynical about these constraints because there are excellent journalists who work freely under them; however they are there and recognised both within and without. I think the only way to make a distinct separation is to step completely outside the structures into a new and independent agency.

Still mulling on this; thanks to the people who have emailed with comments.

Journalist Citizens

Since my return from India I’ve given much thought to the role photographers and journalists play in world events—or, perhaps that’s not the scale I’m considering—what is our role and responsibility to the individuals we document? This is not a novel question; it’s standard in the curriculum of J-schools everywhere and is (or should be) a primary consideration for any journalist of integrity. However, I’m trying to codify it for myself and make clear what I’m attempting when working with vulnerable people.
I’ve had a profitable discussion with David Wells over the past weeks; David is a former teacher of mine and experienced photojournalist. I suggested we might compose a code of conduct—a sort of Hippocratic Oath for photographers (again, not an original idea but one that might be revisited as the nature of journalism changes). I think it important that, as we travel into communities where we have free reign to work (often without thorough question of our motives), we clearly state our purpose and intent. We may not always fulfil that ideal but neither can a physician always save his or her patient. Journalism and medicine involve a careful balance of skill and serendipity; both carry the opportunity for healing as well as harm.

I celebrate the opportunities we have now for citizen journalism; the tools at hand take us far beyond traditional ‘gatekeeper controlled’ news. When someone with a pocket digital camera and a laptop can bring out hidden truths of a repressive government we’ve crossed a significant threshold. However, I wonder if we should not retain something of the old model—whether we are diffusing too much the role that a person defined as a journalist has to play in society. Everyone should be involved in the exchange of information and engage in the progress of their community, government, and so on; we have the ability to speak directly in a public arena without (generally) sanction or review by our peers. I just hope that, in the mêlée, the voices of Journalist Citizens are not forgotten. There is still room and need for people who are set apart for the specific task of digging deep and bringing out a story held to vigourous scrutiny. We seem to be loosing the ability to discern between citizens who express what they experience and journalists who write about the experiences of others; I speak from an American perspective watching and reading our news here. We readily accept the ‘journalism’ of a random weblogger (again, not to denigrate the medium; there are wonderful and thorough writers on the web) and simultaneously receive the rants of television anchors who speak without the backing of research or fact checking. Whether the medium is new and fluid or ‘old and respected’, truth suffers on both accounts. (Once again, this is an ongoing discussion all over the web and among journalists.)

To my point; I wonder if there is a place for a group of people set apart as far as possible from editorial coercion and political influence as possible. One of the issues photographers and journalists have in the field is their county of citizenship. There is always a political element if one is ‘an American photographer’ or an ‘Israeli journalist’; what if a neutral state offered a special conditional citizenship to journalists (in that, instead of swearing only allegiance to that state, the journalists would swear to uphold a strongly reasoned commitment to truth and transparency)?

Susan Garde Pettie (who will, I believe, be First Minister of Scotland one day) forwarded me a link concerning the Icelandic Modern Media Initiative. IMMI is an attempt to build a haven for journalism by writing best practices for free speech into Icelandic law. Iceland would become a physical repository for free speech via the internet to put information beyond the reach of repressive governments and corrupt corporations (who might otherwise shut down the servers of bloggers and newspapers in their own countries).

Birgitta Jónsdóttir is the Icelandic MP behind this initiative; I e-mailed her yesterday and suggested that Iceland develop a journalism degree program that incorporates the best practices of investigative integrity. After completing the program, the graduates would apply for citizenship (in the same spirit that the British and other countries offer a two year work visa to graduates; it draws students into the country and builds the overall skill pool). The whole process would be open and the ‘Icelandic Journalist’ passport would become a recognised mark worldwide. (It would need to be an actual citizenship as well; I don’t know if people would necessarily renounce citizenship of their home countries; but it would need to be legitimately recognised as full citizenship so people could be linked to the international conventions on citizen protection akin to what they are attempting with the press haven.) Birgitta responded this morning with some positive remarks, so we shall see where that goes. (By the way, Icelandic MP’s e-mail contacts are published on the web and they use their first names in the addresses; access, transparency, and a bit of humanity.)

Addendum: there are, no doubt, conventions that limit the scope of what states can confer upon citizens—but what if the Journalist Citizen had the same level of recognition as an official or diplomatic passport holder? The bearer could apply for ‘journalistic immunity’ in the same sense that diplomats may have immunity to prosecution.

More café brilliance

Overheard in the café today:
Woman on mobile phone, ‘I can’t find the damn phone number for my church’s prayer list.’

Barista, ‘I hope we didn’t give that guy too much coffee; I mean, did you see him? He was shaking all over.’

Thick-necked dude in group of wanna-be hipster guys (who, trust me, these guys sort of had the clothes down but failed miserably in every other respect), ‘I know she is just a whore, but I’m trying to be nice to her so she’ll at least sleep with me.’ This was a group of six guys; I wonder why they couldn’t get any women to hand out with them? Hmm.

Sigh.

Forced connexions

In my last post, Emily made a comment that she sometimes ‘feels guilty’ when she turns the page away from the image of a person in need.
I don’t know that I’m necessarily implying that there should be guilt involved; I think it’s something different that I’m not yet prepared to categorise. There is something larger involved in the connexion between the person photographed and the person who chooses to view the image.

Of course, we are saturated with images; like the people who are involved in a disaster who have no choice, we sometimes have no choice to view or not view an image of it. The disaster is brought into our living room or on our desktop.

This is why I have an issue with the people who send ‘pictures of children with flies in their eyes’ to my grandmother asking for funding for one cause or the other. Yes, the need may be legitimate; but they have not given my grandmother a choice to become involved or not. They have forced her into the situation and I wonder if this is not also a kind of secondary violation.

People should be aware; people should seek out a knowledge of world situations; I am truly frustrated with the censored images of war we see here in the States. However, I wonder if we need more training for people to discern how and when to engage in these issues to make our response more effective. Otherwise we risk desensitising ourselves to the reality of it. We risk the double violation of taking someone’s photo and exposing her to the eye of another person who cannot or will not respond in a way that helps either her or the viewer; there is the risk of violating one and traumatising the other.