Setting Your Own Agenda

Have you ever heard of Hank Greenberg? 

 The year was 1934. For the first time in 25 years, the Detroit Tigers baseball team were strong enough to have an excellent chance to play in baseball’s prestigious World Series. Hank was a key player on a team that had come to rely on his superb skills at first base and his strong batting to win games. An important and decisive game was scheduled on the Jewish observance of Yom Kippur. Hank, the son of Romanian immigrants to the United States, announced that he would not don his uniform and play on this day, the most sacred of Hebrew fasts.

 The city of Detroit was outraged. Citizens screamed that the Day of Atonement could be celebrated any year, but this year the Tigers may go all the way to the Series. Anti-Semitic remarks were viciously hurled at him, but Hank Greenberg remained resolute.

The Detroit Tigers indeed lost that day, although the team did secure the pennant that year. And Hank, when more rational minds prevailed, attained the respect of the community. In fact, a poem  by syndicated columnist Edgar Guest honored the man who held steadfastly to his beliefs. The tribute ended with this verse:

Came Yom Kippur – Holy fast day
world-wide over to the Jews,
And Hank Greenberg to his teaching 
and the old tradition true
Spent the day among his people 
and he didn’t come to play. 
Said Murphy to Mulrooney, 
“We shall lose the game today!
We shall miss him in the infield 
and shall miss him at the bat,
But he’s true to his religion – 
and I honor him for that!”

Hank still teaches us an important lesson in how to live effectively. He decided what was important to him and, regardless of pressure applied, he honored his own values. Hank Greenberg – not the team, nor the coaches, nor even emotional Detroit fans – set his agenda. What he did required tremendous courage. He let nobody lower standards he had chosen for himself. And though the team lost that day, the city of Detroit won because it gained an important role model in a young man who courageously followed his own way.

Choosing our own way may not always be easy. But effective living occurs once we decide how we will live our lives and, regardless of outside pressure, we honor that decision.

If you are struggling with a difficult decision today, what is your inner voice leading you to do? Perhaps that is the voice that should be honored.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Jeff Dunn

Two Windows to Truth

You may be familiar with the story. Harry Truman and Tom Dewey faced off in the 1948 US presidential elections. Dewey went to bed convinced, by early election results, that he was the next president of the United States. But when he awoke, he learned that Harry Truman had won. What may not be as well known is that Dewey said to his wife on election day, "Dear, tonight you'll be sleeping with the President of the United States." When they learned that Harry Truman actually won, Mrs. Dewey said to her husband, "Tom, will I be going to Washington or is Mr. Truman coming here?"

It is difficult to predict the future. But one group that has had some success with gazing at the "crystal ball" is the World Future Society. In 1987 the society met in Cambridge, Massachusetts and predicted that the 21st century will include:

1. A transition from an industrial to an information and service society.
2. A terrific increase in the rate of change.
3. Globalizations in every area of business and life.
4. Re-spiritualization of society (reversing the secularization trend of recent centuries), tying knowledge to vision and direction.

Early in the 21st century we have already seen these trends evolving. I find all four fascinating, but the last one particularly intrigues me. A reader sent me this quote from anthropologist Jane Goodall. Goodall, a scientist, says this about spirituality:

"Thinking back over my life, it seems to me that there are different ways of looking out and trying to understand the world around us. There's a very clear scientific window. And it does enable us to understand an awful lot about what's out there. There's another window; it's the window through which the wise men, the holy men, the masters of the different and great religions look as they try to understand the meaning in the world. My own preference is the window of the mystic."

That is a remarkable statement coming from a scientist, but both windows are necessary if we are to understand the world.

Some of us more naturally gravitate toward reason and logic. It is an important window on the world. Raised by a scientist, I understand that and appreciate it. Others more easily understand the world through spiritual eyes. I married one of these people and deeply appreciate her view of reality. The eyes of the soul, looking through a spiritual window, can often see things the mind misses. We shouldn’t discount one method of arriving at truth because we are not as familiar with using it.

I don’t want to under-appreciate the window of science, nor do I want to neglect the window of the mystic. If I spend time gazing out both windows, I’ll see with my mind as well as with my heart. I expect to be amazed.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: freeimage.com/Griszka Niewiadomski

Live Your Love

Imagine four Army chaplains during an icy storm at sea; four men in uniform holding hands as they gaze over the rail of their sinking vessel. They are watching lifeboats pulling away from their reeling ship, the U.S. transport Dorchester. The story of these chaplains is a remarkable account of love and sacrifice. 
    
The scene takes place February 3, 1943, off the southern tip of Greenland. The winter night covers the ship like a blanket. Most of the 909 aboard ship are asleep below the decks. 

Suddenly the Dorchester jerks and shudders. A German torpedo has smashed through her starboard side! In a raging torrent, the sea spurts through the gaping wound. The Dorchester has been dealt a mortal blow. She is sinking. 

An order is given to abandon ship. Aboard the dying vessel, men – many of them injured – search frantically for life jackets. Some stand in shock, not knowing how to react to the catastrophe.

Amidst the chaos stand four pillars of strength, four Army chaplains: George L. Fox, Methodist; Alexander Goode, Jewish; Clark V. Poling, Reformed; and John P. Washington, Roman Catholic. They calm the panic-stricken, help the confused search for life jackets and aid the soldiers into the lifeboats swinging out from the tilting deck.  

When no more jackets can be found, each chaplain takes off his own and straps it onto a soldier who has none. The lifeboats pull slowly away from the doomed vessel. Only 299 will finally survive this night. 

As the Dorchester slides beneath the icy water, some can see the four chaplains, hand in hand, praying to the God of them all. The chaplains’ different theological opinions did not seem to matter much on a sinking ship. All that mattered was that, at a time of crisis, they lived their love. Yet even for us, every day in lesser ways, I suspect that’s all that ever matters.

-- Steve Goodier

freeimages.com/Rebecca Phillips

A Cure for Intolerance

Globe in Hands

We live in an age of intolerance and extremism.

Intolerance is an infectious social disease. It has always been prevalent and is usually spread by fear and misunderstanding. It can infect any kind of group and most any individual. Humorist Mark Twain noticed it in the religious communities of his daytime. He once said that he built a cage and put a cat and a dog in it. After a while they learned to get along. Then he added a bird, a goat and a pig. After some adjustments they, too, got along. Then he added a Baptist, a Presbyterian and a Catholic. Soon there was nothing left alive in the cage.

The disease of intolerance is not communicated only in religious groups. I’ve seen it infect racial groups, economic groups and even whole nations (where it is often cleverly disguised as patriotism). Intolerance always fences people out. It creates one group we call US. And the rest we call THEM.

But intolerance can be cured. Let me give an example. An undated letter to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. can be found in the archives of The King Center. It was written by a certain Jefferson Poland who spoke about his grandfather. Here is an excerpt of the letter and King’s reply:

Dear Rev. King:
     This is something I think you will want to know.
     A few weeks ago a man in Panama City, Florida, one Ross Mullin, sent you a poem which criticized prejudice.
     This man was my grandfather. He had been against Jews and Negroes almost all his life. When I had gotten thrown in jail for sit-ins, he had been shocked and angered. Finally, after some 60-odd years of hate, he grew to the point where he wrote you that poem. I had not had time to write him of my pride and joy before I got a telegram telling me he is dead….

Dr. King replied:

Dear Mr. Poland,
     This is to acknowledge receipt of your letter of recent date. Your story was indeed moving. It is encouraging to know that it is possible to grow and change after a long heritage of prejudice. Certainly your participation contributed to this growth and understanding on the part of your grandfather….

His grandfather had been infected with the disease of intolerance. But his grandson showed him a different way and, to his credit, he was cured. As Nelson Mandela said, “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

There is a cure for intolerance. It requires learning a different way. A better way. The cure for intolerance is to recognize a fundamental truth about humanity: there is no US and THEM. The construct of US and THEM is entirely artificial. It is not real. There is only WE. One world. One people. One family. Only WE.

We can cure the disease of intolerance. We must do it if the world is to survive.

No us. No them.

Just we.

-- Steve Goodier

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Walking Together in the Light

Image by Gabriella Fabbri

A funny story tells about a rabbi and a priest that met at the town picnic and began their usual “kibitzing.”

“This baked ham is just delicious,” the priest teased the rabbi. “You really should try some. I know it’s against your religion, but I can’t understand why such a wonderful thing should be forbidden. You just don’t know what you’re missing. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Mrs. Kennedy’s baked ham. Tell me, when are you going to break down and try a little ham?”

The rabbi looked at the priest, smiled and said, “At your wedding.”

It's clear that much of the conflict between people of differing religious beliefs, particularly deeply-held religious beliefs, stems from the assertion that “we” are right and “they” are wrong. Our beliefs, our history, our practices are true, theirs are false. But can one group have a monopoly on truth?

Truth is light, wherever it is found. It is the sun in the noonday sky, shining on all universally. It cannot be bottled and sold or dispensed in secret tomes and ceremonies. It cannot be stolen, hidden or possessed by one group over another. Truth, like the sun, is viewed in different ways and known by different names. It is seen differently from different angles, but it shines in all directions.

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark,” said Plato. “The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” Afraid of truth. And afraid of one another.

I await the day that all people, all religions, walk in the light. And as they walk, they listen and understand. And in their understanding, they laugh. 

When the day comes that they laugh, they'll know how to walk together in light.

-- Steve Goodier

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How Do You Know the Night Has Passed?

Many years ago Bertrand Russell, the English philosopher and mathematician, was imprisoned for opposing World War I. "When I reported to the warder," Russell said, "he asked me the customary questions - name, age, place of residence. Then he inquired, 'Religious affiliation?'”

Russell replied, "Agnostic."

The poor man looked up. "How do you spell that?"

He spelled it for him. The warder wrote the word carefully on the admission form, then sighed, "Oh, well; there are a great many sects, but I suppose they all worship the same God."

I'm sure Russell could not help but chuckle.

It is true, however, that there exist many spiritual paths. The world has always teemed with a wide variety of spiritual thought and many differing journeys of the heart. But too often the world has used these differences as a weapon. How much agony has been wrought by what should be a thing of beauty - religious passion?

I appreciate an old Jewish story that tells of a rabbi who asked his disciples, "How do you know when the night is giving way and the morning is coming?"

One of the followers stood and said, "Teacher, won't you know that night is fading when, through the dim light, you can see an animal and recognize whether it is a sheep or a dog?"

The rabbi answered, "No."

"Rabbi," asked another, "won't you know that the dawn is coming when you can see clearly enough to distinguish whether a tree is a fig or an olive?"

"No," responded the teacher. "You'll know that the night has passed when you can look at any man and any woman and discern that you are looking at a brother or a sister. Until you can see with that clarity, the night will always be with us."

The night has been long. Isn't it time for dawn to break? No matter who we are, no matter what religion we profess, isn't it time for us to see one another as the sisters and brothers we are? All of us? Only then will we know that night has passed and a new day has dawned.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: freeimages.com/Emin Ozkan 

Health Insurance

I think it was Bob Orben who said, "Have you noticed how health insurance is like a hospital gown: every time you turn around, you find something that isn’t covered?" But health researchers are discovering what many people have known all along -- that getting healthy is about more than medicine and treatment. It also involves a healthy outlook on life.

Various studies have validated the mind/body connection. Cancer is often diagnosed within months of the death of one’s spouse. People who are cynical or angry have been shown to be more prone to heart attacks than those with a more positive outlook. And former Saturday Review editor Norman Cousins demonstrated for years how humor, laughter and hope can aid the healing process.

Not only is a healthy mental outlook necessary, but a healthy spiritual outlook seems to be equally important. Noted psychologist Carl Jung (1865-1961) made a telling observation about the connection between one’s mental health and spiritual outlook. “During the past 30 years, people from all civilized countries of the earth have consulted me,” he said. “Among all my patients in the second half of life -- that is to say, over 35 -- there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a (spiritual) outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which living religions of every age have given to their followers….”

A healthy person is not one with a certain lifestyle, a certain income or certain favorable circumstances. A healthy person is usually one with certain attitudes. Positive mental attitudes and fruitful spiritual attitudes are part of it. One might say that a robust spiritual outlook is good health insurance.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Etolane

A God Too Small

I enjoy a story about baseball great Joe Garagiola. He once stepped to the plate when his turn came to bat. Before assuming his stance, however, fervent Roman Catholic Joe took his bat and made the sign of the cross in the dirt in front of home plate. Catcher Yogi Berra, also a devout Catholic, walked over and erased Garagiola's cross. Turning to the astonished batter, Berra smiled and said, "Let’s let God watch this inning."

If I were God (and thank goodness I’m not), I think I would have wanted to simply watch the inning.

I likewise appreciate the story about an old Quaker who stood during the church meeting and told his fellow Friends about a young man who was not a Quaker and who lived an undisciplined life. This young man invited a pious Quaker friend to go sailing one day. A sudden storm came up and the wild young man was drowned. Having made his point, the old Quaker sat down.

Silence returned to the meeting until the old man once again arose. This time he said, "Friends, for the honor of the truth, I think I ought to add that the Quaker also drowned."

And if I were God (and again, thank goodness I’m not), I think I would have felt sadness for both losses. Neither was a greater tragedy than the other.

I know that religious piety can be a wondrous and beautiful thing. But it disturbs me the prominent role religions have historically played in wars and brutality over the ages. If I imagine a god so small as to favor those who think like me, worship like me and act like me, then I know very little of life and less of faith. I can’t help but think this world would be in better shape if the gods many of us believed in were a little bigger.

-- Steve Goodier


flickr/via tsuji