a lament for the bamiyan buddhas

This week marked a very sad ten-year-anniversary. In 2001, two beautiful 6th-century standing buddhas carved into a cliff-side in the Bamiyan valley (a lovely region of central Afghanistan) were destroyed by the Taliban, who were seeking to eliminate all pre-Islamic and "idolatrous" artifacts from the country.

When it happened, I don't think the magnitude of this loss, in cultural, religious, and historical terms, registered with me. (I was thirteen at the time.) Now it makes me want to cry every time I think about it. The buddhas, which once overlooked an ancient monastery, survived over 1,500 years of natural wear & tear, war, and several invasions, only to be destroyed by some assholes with dynamite out of of sheer cruel small-mindedness.

There has been a movement, both within Afghanistan and around the globe, to reconstruct these statues. UNESCO is meeting in Paris this week to discuss the future of the site, i.e. whether to rebuild or simply preserve what is left. Here's the story.

I can't decide whether or not I think rebuilding them is a good idea. At first, I'm all for it. But then I think that maybe leaving these empty spaces in the cliffs, like scars, would serve as a reminder to us all of the absolute finality of the losses suffered in religious conflicts. These beautiful statues were casualties in an wide, tragic, and still-raging war on religious tolerance. Maybe they could be rebuilt, but it wouldn't be the same. And, lest we forget, human lives certainly cannot be reconstructed.

Okay, it is a Saturday night - Enough sad realities. Time to relax and have some fun. Hope you have a good one, too.

love her: karen armstrong

Everyone needs to be reading Karen Armstrong. She's a former nun who has now dedicated her life to exploring the commonalities between religions - especially the conflict-causing ones (Islam, Christianity, and Judaism). Her most famous work is probably A History of God, in which she examines how all our ideas about God overlap and influence one another, as well as the sociopolitical background for those beliefs.

Her latest project is the Charter for Compassion, which is a document stating that:

• compassion is celebrated in all major religious, spiritual and ethical traditions
• the Golden Rule is our prime duty and cannot be limited to our own political, religious or ethnic group
• therefore, in our divided world, compassion can build common ground 

The Charter is guided and promoted by multi-faith religious leaders around the globe. Well, it's a nice idea isn't it? It's accompanied by her new book, Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. Those of you who are familiar with my take on religion can probably understand why I find the Charter and Karen Armstrong's message so appealing.

Here's short video on the subject. It honestly makes me a little teary-eyed. Watch it; you'll be happy you did.

theology lite

I haven't readily associated myself with any religion for years now. I've never felt entirely comfortable with the concept of Heaven and Hell, to be honest. It always broke my heart a little bit. After spending much of my young adult life in an existential panic, I've arrived at a conclusion or two. I don't think I can fully grasp these conclusions myself until I articulate them to someone else, so bear with me here.

I might as well cut to the chase: I think everyone is right about everything. Cop out? Nah. I just don't buy into the whole "You're wrong, I'm right" attitude that pervades many religious communities, notably those of the Abrahamic tradition (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam). I'm inclined to say that just because someone doesn't agree with your spiritual convictions doesn't mean they're blind to the truth. It means they're seeing something different, and they really do see it. Who are you to contradict them? Let me elaborate.

Common sense will tell you that people don't gamble their souls lightly; their religious beliefs are based on what is true to them. They're willing to stake their eternal fates on those beliefs. That is precisely why we've always been so willing to kill each other over this stuff; no one can bear to consider the possibility that they might be wrong. And why should they? They have as good a reason for their convictions as you do. We've all read holy books, each which purports to be the inspired word of our respective higher powers; many of us feel a communion or personal relationship with whatever divinity we've chosen to worship; most of us have grown up in communities with like-minded people who validate and encourage our religious beliefs. So what qualifies one religion as truer than another? Faith. The blind hope and deep-seated conviction that your path is the only one. Here's the rub: Everyone's got it.

I'm going to pick on the Christian and Islamic traditions, since they seem to be the most culturally relevant today. Both are equally convinced that they are correct, both sides can provide "evidence" for their convictions, and both sides have proven in the past that they willing are to stake their very souls on the chance that they're right. You can't argue with that type of reasoning. When anyone tries, they end up running in circles and providing different variations of the same evidence: holy texts, miracles, personal revelation, etc., tailored to fit both viewpoints. Obviously no one would choose to worship Allah or pray to Jesus Christ unless they were convinced that it was the right thing to do. And of course they are equally unreceptive to conversion. If you're a devout Christian, for instance, imagine how you would respond if a Muslim missionary approached you in a shopping mall. Why would you expect a devout Muslim to react any differently?

So how can anyone possibly hope to win the spiritual conflict? Simply put, you can't. You just have to wait until you die to find out you were wrong, and by then it's too late.

Let's say you're on your deathbed, and you're at peace. You have lived your life in the way that all religious traditions essentially demand: You were good to your fellow man, you were generous with your time and money, you expressed gratitude for your blessings, you were honest and kind, you prayed/meditated/worshiped faithfully. Surely a peaceful afterlife awaits you. But then you make your way to the pearly gates, and you realize you've made a horrible mistake: They (whoever they may be) really were right, and you really were wrong. But surely there's some leeway! After all, you'd done your best, and there was no indication at any point in your earthly life that you might have placed your bet on the wrong team. Ironically enough, you had always been told that eternal damnation awaited you if you didn't disregard opposing viewpoints. So how were you to know? And yet this divine figure, who is supposed to be the supreme embodiment of love, hope, and grace, can muster no forgiveness. Off you go to Hell. The joke's on you. 

Anyone else find this scenario, which is tacitly accepted by adherents to Abrahamic religions, intensely disturbing? Your doubts have earned you, too, an eternity in a fiery pit. But why not assume that everyone is right? Why not let your spiritual truth be that all roads lead to the same destination? The divine power I believe in is one that tells us to be kind to one another and find wisdom where we can.

I understand that my extremely liberal view of spirituality may be enough to condemn me according to some belief systems, and I accept it. I find no comfort in the prospect of Heaven if it means that millions of otherwise good people must burn for all eternity because they happened to choose wrong and I happened to choose correctly in the great game of religion. All I can do is learn as much as I can about everyone and everything, and look at life (and the afterlife) as the strange and wonderful mystery that it is. There are some religious traditions that also follow this train of thought, and those are the ones with which I may eventually reconcile. At the end of the road, perhaps I can achieve some sort of truce with the universe.

Whatever your opinion on the things I've said, I have one response to you: You're right.

I'm sure that these musings will engender a variety of personal responses and opinions, but I know that most people can't leave comments here. So call or privately message me if you want to pat me on the back or tell me off. I'm cool with either one.

happy happy diwali

I was first introduced to the Hindu festival of Diwali by a particularly hilarious episode of The Office. The holiday has also been in the news lately because of President Obama's controversial trip to India. But what is it, exactly? Since I'm going to the Diwali celebration in downtown San Antonio this weekend, I decided I better find out. 

Diwali is called the "Festival of Lights" because the celebration involves lighting candles and lanterns. The multitude of lights are supposed to signify the banishment of ignorance (darkness), and the welcoming of knowledge (light). The religious significance of Diwali varies according to region and may be associated with the gods Rama, Kali, or Lakshmi, but the overarching theme is the victory of good over evil. (I think everyone, Hindu or not, should be cool with that.) Diwali celebrations also include the three things that all fabulous holidays have: fireworks, gifts, and feasting. Yesss.

I think we're going to have a great time this weekend! This is only the second city-wide celebration (it got started when San Antonio signed a sister-city agreement with Chennai, an Indian city on the Bay of Bengal, in 2008). Here's some info. and the website:

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Hemisfair Park by the Tower of the Americas
San Antonio, Texas

6:00 - 10:00 PM

*Live Entertainment

*Temporary Henna Tattoos

*1000 Diya Candle Floats

*Authentic Indian cuisine

*Spectacular Fireworks Display

http://www.diwalisa.com/

releasing diya candles into the S.A. river

If you want to know more about Diwali, here's a good site.

samhain: for pagans who like to party

guy in bow tie: creepiest person in picture

I don't know about you, but my parents knew that letting me go around the neighborhood in a Tinkerbell costume on Oct. 31 collecting Almond Joys and M&Ms wouldn't lay open my soul for demonic possession. Believe it or not, this is a legitimate concern for some people. Some parents actually refuse to let their children trick-or-treat because they think the holiday is evil. Despite my disdain for the Halloween paranoia that reigns in some Christian churches and schools (which I rank on the weirdo-meter right up there with their crusade against Harry Potter, but that's for another day), I must admit that they are not just epic party-poopers: The holiday really IS a bizarre pagan tradition. And, yeah, it all got started because of the belief that evil spirits roam the earth on this one night. Ever heard of Samhain? Weeeelllll.

Samhain is the basis for Halloween. The ancient Celts, who lived about 2,000 years ago in Ireland, the U.K., and northern France (where they were, and still are, a lot less poncy and obnoxious than their countrymen - just so you know where I stand on the French), believed that on Samhain night the line between the world of the living and the dead became blurred. The dead spirits would show up to steal babies, kill animals, destroy crops, and wreak havoc for fun. The Celts got ready for this by throwing a big party for their gods: They'd put on their best animals heads and skins, light a bonfire, sacrifice some sheep (and maybe a virgin or two), dance a bit, and tell each others fortunes. They celebrated this festival in the beginning of November, when they knew that a hard cold winter (which always equaled starvation, sickness, and death back in the day) was right around the corner. So Samhain wasn't exactly a big happy brouhaha; It was all about the Celts anticipating evil spirits making their lives miserable and maybe not making it through the winter. Modern-day Christians can't logically begrudge them for trying to appease their deities this way instead of turning to Jesus or going to the "Fall Festival" at the local Baptist church, because, um...Christianity didn't exist yet.

this pumpkin is having the time of his life

When the Romans showed up and conquered the Celts they brought their own brand of paganism, including Feralla, a festival marking the passing of the dead in late October. But it was the Catholic church who, in the 800s, introduced All Saints, All Hallows, and All Souls Days. This string of fall festivals was dedicated to martyrs and saints (aka the dead) and was specifically meant to replace the older Celtic and Roman traditions (which, as it happens, were also all about...the dead). These festivals were collectively referred to as - ta da! - Hallowmas. And yes, beginning around 1000 AD, the celebrations included bonfires and costumes. Loreena McKennitt, a Canadian folk artist, wrote a really beautiful song about it.

So basically the Catholics just slapped a new name on Samhain and kept the tradition alive. They tend to be more down to party than their Protestant brethren, who are usually the ones getting all up-in-arms over Halloween. Most of our holidays actually have roots in pagan traditions, but Halloween is the one that gets picked on (understandably, I guess) because of its ancient association with death and the supernatural. And there are some odd people out there who really take its roots very seriously. I don't spend my Halloweens with pagans, but they don't freak me out nearly as badly as the gaggles of women who asphyxiate one another while Christmas shopping on Black Friday...speaking of evil traditions.

they've definitely been dipping into the trashcan punch

Most of our Halloween customs have very colorful stories behind them:

• Jack O' Lanterns: What happens when you go boozin' with the Devil
• Trick-or-treating: When beggars knocked on your door instead of hanging out at traffic lights
• Costumes: Because demons are big scaredy-cats

I think it's cool (and harmless) that this millennia-old festival has survived and evolved into what it is today. I think of Halloween in purely secular terms, but I guess it's what you make it. Want to wear some fox pelts and dance around a fire? Want to dress as a slutty cop and drink trashcan punch? Want to keep your kids inside because you're uncomfortable with the whole thing? Do what you do, y'all. I myself will be carousing in a sock monkey costume this Samhain. Cheers!