QUOTE: Bill Maher criticizes religious tests for political offices

I think this is a timely quote from comedian/political satirist Bill Maher that touches on the danger of choosing presidential candidates and political leaders based on their religious beliefs instead of choosing them on the basis of their capability to do the job they are applying for. The following quote is taken from his "New Rules" segment for the Sept. 21, 2007 episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. He's brash but I think makes a very good point.

According to a recent poll, seven in ten say it's important to have a president with strong religious beliefs… But, fair is fair. So, for myself and the other 15-20% of American who the majority call "non-believers," but who I call "rationalists," here is our religious test for office: If you believe in Judgment Day, I have to seriously question your judgment; If you believe you're in a long-term relationship with an all-powerful space-daddy--who will, after you die, party with your ghost forever--you can't have my vote, even for Miss Hawaiian Tropic; I can't trust you at the levers of government because there's an electrical fire going on in your head. Maybe a president who didn't believe our soldiers were going to Heaven might be a little less willing to get them killed.

Complex characters

Earlier this summer, my supervisor at work was invited to a mandatory meeting at the last-minute and asked me to take his place escorting a French news reporter and a his photographer throughout our hospital system as they filmed a documentary on philanthropic activities in the United States. In between interviews with philanthropists, families, college faculty and hospital administrators, I talked with the reporter, Frédéric Dupuis, about French politics, religion, and entertainment. On the topic of entertainment, we discussed the types of American television shows that are most popular with the French. According to Dupuis, favorite shows among French viewers include Grey’s Anatomy, Lost and CSI: Miami (known as Experts in France).

He said that these shows were popular because they had complex characters. In other words, the French people seem to gravitate to those shows where there aren’t any clear-cut divisions between good or evil characters. They aren’t generally interested in the stories of the hero riding a white pony and the villain wearing a black mask. Instead, they are drawn to stories about everyday people facing challenging situations.

Of the shows he mentioned, we discussed the elements that most of their characters seem to share. First, each character has a “shadow-side” as well as the potential to do something redemptive. Second, each character has a past that they are not entirely proud of. Third, each character maintains complicated relationships with the other characters (who at times can be identified as allies, enemies or both).

Our discussion reminded me of the characters of the award-winning 2004 film, Crash. I remember reading something radical priest and social activist Father Richard Rohr wrote a few years ago in regards to that film. Rohr said that Crash is the type of film where the characters that you would identify as the heroes in the first half of the story later turn out to have dark sides of their own and those characters you would identify as villains early in the film later prove to have surprisingly redemptive qualities. In the end, you see all the characters as realistic depictions of complex human beings who are capable of acting in ways that are sometimes honorable and sometimes disheartening.

On a similar note, a friend of mine, who is an actress/playwright, once told me, “When you are developing a believable character you must remember that every character wants something.” I believe, as humans, we are all complex characters and we all want something. Perhaps stories of complicated characters serve to remind us of our own conflicting interests and motives. We try to live and function with a mental tension where our good intentions coexist with our selfish inclinations. I applaud the creative minds whose works of art and literature manage to reflect that complexity because it seems that many stories fail to stress just how complicated, multi-faceted and interconnected we humans really are.

I continue to fear the implications of those stories that depict the world as a perpetual Armageddon of “us” versus “them.” In this worldview, the global village becomes a dualistic fantasy world pitting the absolutely righteous versus the absolutely wicked; the civilized versus the heathen; the saved versus the lost. I consider many of these to be false dichotomies that are not based in reality. It seems that a majority of non-Americans also fear this dualistic worldview because it has so often bled over into America’s enforcement of domestic and foreign policy and is manifested in the ways we deal with new threats and strange challenges to our way of life.

I love a good story, but I also love realistic and believable characters. When characters are believable I think they are best able to model for us the inspiring lives we’d like to live and the harsh realities we’d like to avoid. These characters inspire us, inform us and warn us.

Let’s focus on telling powerful stories with realistic characters. Let’s encourage those who tell such stories. And let’s live in ways that acknowledge the complexities of our humanity and interconnectedness of our experiences.

I realized something changed within me when...

Last July, I was in Chicago on vacation with my wife. We were window shopping while walking south on Michigan Ave on a intensely hot Saturday afternoon when it happened. On the street corner before us stood a tall, middle-aged Caucasian gentleman dressed in sunglasses and armed with a smile.

Without saying a word and handed me a little blue-colored pamphlet. Before I could take my next step, I read the cover of the pamphlet. It read, “If you died today, are you sure you would go to heaven?” I’m sure there are many who would find this question helpful, but I was offended. Interestingly, the words of this classic, evangelical ice-breaker never bothered me until now. I used to believe that this was a question worth asking people, but now I find it to be an inquiry that is filled with harmful assumptions and dangerous implications.

Many Christians believe this is “the ultimate question” which leads to “the ultimate answer.” Personally, I don’t think that its answer is any of our business, nor do I think that anyone honestly knows what happens to us when breath ultimately leaves our bodies. I handed the pamphlet back to the man while offering him the softest and most polite "No, thank you” I could muster. He looked at me with silent shock as I crossed the street. It was at this moment that I realized that a monumental change had occurred within me.

I knew that I was no longer convinced by the truth claims of traditional Christianity. I knew that I was committed to finding a new way of understanding the life and way of this mysterious figure known as Jesus of Nazareth. A way that makes sense in this post-modern era marked with scientific discoveries and religious pluralism. A way that makes sense in light of the human tendency toward subjectivity, rationalization and self-delusion. A way that makes sense in the wake of forgotten myths and the ruins of the ancient civilizations that believed them to be absolutely true. A way that makes sense in the aftermath of natural disasters. A way that makes sense amidst the endless suffering of innocent people and the ceaseless acts of inhumanity. A way that makes sense to people waiting in expectant hope and crying for delayed justice. A way that makes sense in light of unanswered prayers. A way that makes sense in the shadow of a silent God.

When Humor Meets Holiness

A fellow seminary student (whom I consider a friend and whose opinion I hold in high regard) and I shared an e-mail correspondence today about religion and humor. Recently, his blog introduced me to Mr. Deity, a series of short comedy sketches that address a plethora of controversial issues and burning questions regarding Christianity- all within a four minute time span. I just watched the episodes “The Evil,” "The Messages", “The Book” and "The Really Big Favor" (which is my personal favorite). There are ten in all and I plan to finish watching the entire series this weekend. I find the series to be hilarious and witty, smart and engaging. Imagine a cross between the movie Bruce Almighty, the comedy of George Carlin and the HBO series Curb Your Enthusiasm. Personally, I think the series has tapped into a highly effective way to spark discussion and stimulate critical thought and I am glad the creators had the courage to make it.

My friend observed that people respond in interesting ways when the holy is mixed with the humorous. Some would call such attempts blasphemous. But he suggested that we need to laugh at ourselves more. I'd like to think that Jesus had a sense of humor even though we hardly ever see images of him smiling or laughing. I can imagine Jesus telling some of his stories (parables) with a stand-up comedian-like delivery saying, "Hey, did you hear the one about the..."

Our culture has seared into our imagination an indelible image of a morbid and morose Jesus. We have been raised to follow a Jesus that is always contemplative, always brooding and always dead serious. But the Gospel accounts of the New Testament reveal Jesus of Nazareth to be an expert storyteller who weaved together poetry, shock value, irony and humor. I find it hard to believe that the masses that came to hear him would have paid him any attention if he wasn’t somewhat of an engaging speaker or performer.

I also can't imagine that the people of Ancient Palestine would have ever invited the depressing fellow that our culture portrays as Jesus to one of their dinner parties (The life-draining SNL character Debbie Downer comes to mind here). The fact is, the Gospels don’t record a lot of dialogue from those dinner parties. Did Jesus and the disciples have any jokes that they shared? What did they laugh at? Did they laugh at each other? Even the most serious, sincere, and mission-minded individuals I know also happen to be some of the funniest and spontaneous practical jokesters. They have made it easy for me to believe that holiness and humor don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

Personally, I glean a lot of wisdom from modern-day comedians and socio-political satirists. Some of my personal favorites are Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock, Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, Robin Williams, Whoopi Goldberg and the Weekend Update crew on SNL. In many cases, I find them far easier to trust than a lot of popularity-driven politicians who come to interviews, press conferences and debates armed with nebulous messages and politically-correct responses to the sincere and controversial questions of the people (and religious leaders can often fall into this trap). Even though many of these comedians can come off as obscene at times, I think they often speak with far more honesty and clarity than most of us would dare to muster. I recall a line from contemporary performance poet Jamie Kilstein’s poem “FCC” which says “Truth can only be legally broadcast if it's hidden between set-ups and punch lines.” I find this to be true. Give me a brutally honest comedy sketch instead of a bland and over-promising "State of the Union" address any day.

While I acknowledge that many of these comedians also have personal biases and blind spots, I greatly appreciate their talent for pointing out those glaring contradictions and hypocrisies that the casual observer might miss. In my years of watching and studying comedy I have come to realize just how ingenious many of these humorists are. And I would dare say that we have a lot to learn from them.

Deconstructing Ourselves

I had a very meaningful talk with one of my cousins this afternoon in a locally-owned café. After being estranged for almost five years we now try to get together every other month to talk about our religious ideas, scientific discoveries, and our intellectual developments. I share with him the interesting things I’m learning in my seminary classes and he hips me to the latest controversial documentary that he thinks would cater to my interests. I can imagine those café patrons who listen in to our talks think they are eavesdropping on two heretics bent on blaspheming all that is holy. I’d like to think that, in reality, they are listening to the rants of two young men fighting hard to deconstruct and de-mythologize those theological beliefs and political ideas they now consider to be faulty and harmful.

Our recent conversations have been filled with much laughter and inquiry into the mysteries of the world and the best answers we can offer at this point in our lives. Any given discussion might cover issues related to God, government, dreams, discovery, family, faith, science, spirituality, history, or heresy. We realize that our views may change over time, but for now, we speak with passion about those truths that we find most convincing.

We talked about how often people’s religious beliefs and ethical stances take form and calcify in response to perceived and actual threats, disasters and cultural change. We would dare say that this is a consistent response of humans throughout history; a way for people to assert their identities in an environment where those identities seem to be jeopardized.

We also discussed how subjective this thing called “faith” really is. We noticed how we humans have the ability to rationalize and find meaning in whatever happens to us. We noticed how often people say “praise God” when things go well and blame “the devil” when things go wrong. But what we consider a blessing might be viewed as a curse by someone else, whether they live across the street or across the globe. In this interconnected world, the products I consume and "thank God" for might also be those products that someone else is being exploited to manufacture in order to supply my demand. Pretty ironic if you ask me.

We also noticed that when it comes to faith, we often see what we choose to see and ignore those realities that we don’t want to face. We talked about how pious believers can read a religious text and gloss over the violence that occurs on its pages (often at the hands of its heroes). We also talked about how extreme skeptics can ignore any wisdom that might also be found within those texts. We both noticed how easy it is for people on different sides of a debate to view their opponent as totally ignorant and themselves as absolutely enlightened.

In light of all this, we found it interesting that many people obsessively oppose those very things they find within themselves. This is a sobering phenomenon that calls upon each of us to do some heavy self-examination. You begin to wonder: what am I opposed to and why? What am I in support of, and why?

Knowing myself, I realize that I love to rant about what I perceive to be wrong with the world. I love to talk about what the people in power are not doing to prevent or stop the rampant dehumanization, deception, destruction and death that we see manifested in global news. Yet, I’m growing tired of talking about that. I realize how I commit many of these crimes in my own way, whether I mentally dehumanize women by looking longingly at demeaning images of them on the Internet or whether my own undisciplined consumption contributes to the death and destruction of the world’s people and resources.

My concern now is finding out what I can do about these problems. Instead of ranting about what’s wrong, I’m going to do my part to make things better.

Obsessed with Knowing

I love the work of Real Live Preacher. Real Live Preacher is a blog that was started almost five years ago by a Texas pastor who began to blog anonymously with the goal of “writing honestly and well” the feelings, thoughts and doubts that he was afraid to share with his small American Baptist congregation. In 2004, he finally revealed his identity as Gordon Atkinson, a husband, father and pastor of Covenant Baptist Church in San Antonio, TX. Atkinson's heartfelt essays have consistently challenged me and moved me. In his words, I often find my own thoughts and suspicions being articulated. That is an awesome feeling. It assures you that you are not alone.

He recently wrote an essay for The Christian Century Magazine that broke my heart…in a healthy way. In his essay, “Letting Go of the Need to Know,” Atkinson addresses the compulsion that many of us "everlasting students" have: the restless pursuit of knowledge. When I first saw the title of his essay I got scared and avoided reading it until yesterday because I was sure that it contained a convicting message that I wouldn’t be ready to accept. I was right.

Here is a portion of the essay:

“You can be a specialist or you can be a generalist. There's not enough time to be both. If you are a generalist, there will be things you will not see no matter how much you travel. If you are a specialist, there will be tiny secrets and truths that will elude you, no matter how carefully you look. That means that no matter how you approach life, you are going to have to relax and let some things go… This is why the search for knowledge cannot bear the full weight of human desire, which includes the search for wisdom, serenity and meaning in life. These spiritual pursuits call us to slow down and let go, to accept the limits of our humanity with grace and dignity. The search and desire for anything can become an unhealthy obsession unless, somewhere along the way, you learn this.”

This is a relevant message for me as tonight I will return to seminary to begin my first day of class for the fall semester. As much as I appreciate my own unique way of thinking and understanding things, I appreciate his stinging reminder that I can never know all the things I would want to know. I can easily become obsessed with a need to have all the answers. I’m 28 years old and over the past six years I have searched restlessly (like a madman) through hundreds of texts, scriptures, videos, books, blogs, papers, podcasts, audio-books, essays and encyclopedias in pursuit of a conclusive understanding of truth and reality. But the pursuit of knowledge will always and can only be an ongoing process. And even if I could take all of it in I couldn’t retain all of it.

I’m often reminded of my limited humanity when I walk into a library. Yeah, I’d love to read the entire catalogs of certain authors and to listen to the catalogues of certain musicians. But I have to make a decision and choose those few things I feel drawn to read and listen to at this moment in time (And sometimes the choice is to simply sit still without reading or listening to anything). Atkinson’s essay reminded me that it takes wisdom to know what to focus on and what to leave behind.

The point that I came away with is this: It’s OK for us to investigate, question and pursue answers to our questions, but we also need to slow down enough to live meaningful lives in the meantime.

Please take time to read his full essay.