Full disclosure at the outset, I'm not an Episcopalian. But I have spent a good chunk of my professional life (starting way back with my Master's thesis) studying them and their church, and doing so has surely shaped my own faith in a variety of ways.
As a result of all that work, I've got in my home library several different versions of the Book of Common Prayer. My favorite one, is a "pocket size" copy of the 1928 version (which in my mind remains the best version ever to come from the United States), printed in 1953, that once belonged to George M. Alexander, the Bishop of Upper South Carolina. Since I bought it at a used bookstore in Indiana, I really have no idea how it made its way up north. But here it now resides, and every now and I again, I pull it down and read a Morning Prayer or the appropriate Daily Office. It does my largely pietistic soul good to mix with a bit of the more liturgical aspects of the faith.
Tonight though, I got it out because we learned earlier today that a good friend of ours, who had been battling cancer had died. Looking for a little comfort, I turned to Bishop Alexander's Prayer Book, and eventually found my way to this passage:
"Most merciful Father, who hast been pleased to take unto thyself the soul of this thy servant; Grant to us who are still in our pilgrimage, and who walk as yet by faith, that having served thee with constancy on earth, we may be joined hereafter with they blessed saints in glory everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
Perhaps those words and indeed, the news this morning of our friend's passing, was made all the more real because of a conversation I had with my son last night. We had a "boys dinner out" and during the course of our meal (bread sticks and pizza), I looked over at him and said that that moment was the best part of my day. He looked back, agreed, and then (as only a little boy can do) said that one day when he was a daddy, he was going to bring his son to Pizza Hut too.
His words made me smile (it was a "treasured up these things in your heart" kind of moment), but tonight they make me contemplative. My son is still to young perhaps to realize that we aren't promised tomorrow. We can hope for the future, but what lies ahead remains unknown to us. All we can do enjoy the time we have with each other now, and cherish the memories we have of the departed when their pilgrimage has come to an end. And pray that others will cherish our memory when it is our time to depart from this mortal life.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
On State Churches: Finnish Style
Yesterday afternoon, while putting off doing some revision to a manuscript I'm working on, I happened upon an article about a potential Christian revival in Eastern Europe (you can read it here). While the article focused chiefly on Hungary and Croatia, and the comments were interesting for their back and forth, I mostly just filed it away as an interesting tidbit, and eventually got to the work at hand.
And then, this morning I got up to do a little shoveling in what might be described as near arctic conditions (blowing and drifting snow, wind chill of -30 F) I came back inside and warmed up by checking my Facebook news feed, and came upon this article posted by an old friend from Finland. For those of you who don't read Finnish or don't have time to run the article through Google Translate (which is what I did), allow me to summarize: Finland, like virtually every European country, has an official state church. In this case, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland. There is currently a movement in Finland to seek disestablishment of the state church, on the grounds that having one creates an environment hostile to other religions and people who profess no faith at all.
I noted when I read it the translated version that the author of the piece didn't include anyone supporting retaining the state church (one can chalk this up either to indifference on the part of the author, or perhaps more likely, simply reporting on the petition for disestablishment, which has largely just begun). So, I messaged Joel (the friend who originally posted the article) and he quickly wrote back, saying that "the proponents of the status quo will probably have many persuasive arguments. Grab the popcorn!"
But this reminded me of a discussion I had in Boston in 2012. I was at the Congregational Library talking about The Mainline, and one of the people at the talk raised the issue of state churches in Europe and if something similar (in terms of dwindling membership and importance) might happen in the United States. It is an interesting comparative question. Many conservative or orthodox Christians worry this might be the case, and many secular humanists surely hope it will happen. The problem, in the end, is that the situation (when it comes not just to the old Mainline decline of the Seven Sisters, but possible denominational decline) in the United States is just similar enough to entertain such thoughts, but so different as to defeat much useful comparison. Denominations, even large culturally significant ones with large memberships are simply not the same thing as state sponsored churches. Treating them as such creates serious issues not so much about Church/State division, but perhaps more obviously on religious liberty.
Still, it is a question I hope to come back to at some point in more depth. And that brings us back to Finland. According to the official statistics, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland boasts a membership of 4.4 million, with 2100 pastors. That number is quite robust, since according to most sources, Finland has a population of roughly 5.4 million people. Let those numbers sink in for a second. What they mean, if true, is that nearly 80 percent of the population belongs to the state church. But, if you've read The Mainline or follow such things, you know that there is something wrong with that membership figure (and probably not the population number), and that is one of the problems with state churches: They count everyone as being a member whether they are or not. And most likely, they are not (one report from a few years ago found that less than 2% of Finns go to church each Sunday). The numbers might feel good, but reporting such figures is likely not doing anyone any real good at all.
My friend described the state church in Finland as "our church being a reformed-many-times-over, fairly non-brimstoney church." It has, in other words, been something that is always there and rarely controversial. Part, to put it another way, of the established order of things. One of the issues with doing away with state churches then is that you inevitably are changing the way things "always" have been done. As an American, I have few problems with disestablishment--chiefly because I think competition amongst denominations has tended to keep the Christian faith vital and relevant here in the United States. As of yet, we don't take it for granted. Perhaps disestablishment in Finland could produce similar results, maybe even (and here I'm being influenced by another article I read this morning on the anniversary of the birth of one of the leaders of the Welsh Great Awakening) it could move people to actually fill those church pews. Watching what unfolds from afar, while keeping an eye on developments closer to home, is worthy of having some popcorn on hand to be sure!
And then, this morning I got up to do a little shoveling in what might be described as near arctic conditions (blowing and drifting snow, wind chill of -30 F) I came back inside and warmed up by checking my Facebook news feed, and came upon this article posted by an old friend from Finland. For those of you who don't read Finnish or don't have time to run the article through Google Translate (which is what I did), allow me to summarize: Finland, like virtually every European country, has an official state church. In this case, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland. There is currently a movement in Finland to seek disestablishment of the state church, on the grounds that having one creates an environment hostile to other religions and people who profess no faith at all.
I noted when I read it the translated version that the author of the piece didn't include anyone supporting retaining the state church (one can chalk this up either to indifference on the part of the author, or perhaps more likely, simply reporting on the petition for disestablishment, which has largely just begun). So, I messaged Joel (the friend who originally posted the article) and he quickly wrote back, saying that "the proponents of the status quo will probably have many persuasive arguments. Grab the popcorn!"
But this reminded me of a discussion I had in Boston in 2012. I was at the Congregational Library talking about The Mainline, and one of the people at the talk raised the issue of state churches in Europe and if something similar (in terms of dwindling membership and importance) might happen in the United States. It is an interesting comparative question. Many conservative or orthodox Christians worry this might be the case, and many secular humanists surely hope it will happen. The problem, in the end, is that the situation (when it comes not just to the old Mainline decline of the Seven Sisters, but possible denominational decline) in the United States is just similar enough to entertain such thoughts, but so different as to defeat much useful comparison. Denominations, even large culturally significant ones with large memberships are simply not the same thing as state sponsored churches. Treating them as such creates serious issues not so much about Church/State division, but perhaps more obviously on religious liberty.
Still, it is a question I hope to come back to at some point in more depth. And that brings us back to Finland. According to the official statistics, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland boasts a membership of 4.4 million, with 2100 pastors. That number is quite robust, since according to most sources, Finland has a population of roughly 5.4 million people. Let those numbers sink in for a second. What they mean, if true, is that nearly 80 percent of the population belongs to the state church. But, if you've read The Mainline or follow such things, you know that there is something wrong with that membership figure (and probably not the population number), and that is one of the problems with state churches: They count everyone as being a member whether they are or not. And most likely, they are not (one report from a few years ago found that less than 2% of Finns go to church each Sunday). The numbers might feel good, but reporting such figures is likely not doing anyone any real good at all.
My friend described the state church in Finland as "our church being a reformed-many-times-over, fairly non-brimstoney church." It has, in other words, been something that is always there and rarely controversial. Part, to put it another way, of the established order of things. One of the issues with doing away with state churches then is that you inevitably are changing the way things "always" have been done. As an American, I have few problems with disestablishment--chiefly because I think competition amongst denominations has tended to keep the Christian faith vital and relevant here in the United States. As of yet, we don't take it for granted. Perhaps disestablishment in Finland could produce similar results, maybe even (and here I'm being influenced by another article I read this morning on the anniversary of the birth of one of the leaders of the Welsh Great Awakening) it could move people to actually fill those church pews. Watching what unfolds from afar, while keeping an eye on developments closer to home, is worthy of having some popcorn on hand to be sure!
Monday, January 20, 2014
Putting the "Reverend" before the "Doctor"
Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in the United States. Or should I say today is the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in the United States. As someone who studies American Religious History (and who also holds a doctorate), I have found it interesting that we (myself included, but also the average person as well as journalists of all stripes) have tended of late to drop at least one, if not both of those titles. Chances are if you've watched the news today or read an article about him, you've heard the man whom we honor today as "Dr. King." While it might be a means to shorten things up, rather (at least in most cases) than a sign of secularization run amok, what is interesting about that to me is that he was always a "Reverend" first and foremost, a man of God.
I think that is a good thing to remember. Indeed, it is not something the King Center (even as they also refer to him as "Dr. King") shies away from in the least. Nor should they, or any of us. As several posts remind readers today (here and here) it was precisely because he was following the convictions of his faith which made the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King such a powerful leader.
While most Americans probably know his famous and visionary (and rightfully so) "I Have A Dream" speech, I tend to have students read his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" instead. It's not because I don't share the vision of the "Dream" speech, nor am not moved by its rhetoric, but rather it is because the "Letter" is about the challenge that the "Dream" sought to triumph over. It isn't just about segregation or civil rights (although it is, of course, about both those things). It is a letter written by a pastor to other pastors, a reverend writing to his peers, challenging them, their parishioners, and by extension, us to do more, to not wait, to not say "just be patient." It is a convicting letter. And I'd argue, if you don't know the "Letter" and its message, then you can't fully appreciate the "Dream" speech in its entirety. Ultimately, we can't separate the man from both his professional titles, without doing a disservice to who he was and what he helped call the nation to do and overcome.
I think that is a good thing to remember. Indeed, it is not something the King Center (even as they also refer to him as "Dr. King") shies away from in the least. Nor should they, or any of us. As several posts remind readers today (here and here) it was precisely because he was following the convictions of his faith which made the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King such a powerful leader.
While most Americans probably know his famous and visionary (and rightfully so) "I Have A Dream" speech, I tend to have students read his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" instead. It's not because I don't share the vision of the "Dream" speech, nor am not moved by its rhetoric, but rather it is because the "Letter" is about the challenge that the "Dream" sought to triumph over. It isn't just about segregation or civil rights (although it is, of course, about both those things). It is a letter written by a pastor to other pastors, a reverend writing to his peers, challenging them, their parishioners, and by extension, us to do more, to not wait, to not say "just be patient." It is a convicting letter. And I'd argue, if you don't know the "Letter" and its message, then you can't fully appreciate the "Dream" speech in its entirety. Ultimately, we can't separate the man from both his professional titles, without doing a disservice to who he was and what he helped call the nation to do and overcome.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
ABSCAM-The Movie
I enjoy movies. Always have. From time to time the world of Hollywood intersects with my professional life. Such was the case with "American Hustle."
In case you don't know, the movie with an all star cast, is about an FBI investigation into white collar crime during the late 1970s. Dubbed ABSCAM (the FBI had an agent impersonate an Arab sheik -- named Abul and it was a scam, hence ABSCAM), the case moved from looking into forged art, to securities, to political corruption. You can read more about the real life investigation here from the FBI's perspective, as well as here from a recent journalistic attempt to link ABSCAM to the NSA scandal.
As a movie goer, the film was a lot of fun. Very well acted. Nice soundtrack. Well directed. It captured the "vibe" of the late 1970s quite well. You can take a look at the cast and the movie's official website here. Any awards the film generates are well deserved.
As an historian, the movie left me a bit wanting. It mixed fact with fantasy a bit to much for me. Now, this isn't just because they didn't film it in Philadelphia (where some of the story actually took place) or some other "dramatic license" issue with the past. Rather, it is because for three years I got to know some the people who were actually involved in ABSCAM (on the federal side of things), and while the movie got the feel right, the actually story, in some ways, is even more outlandish than what appears on film. From 2007 until 2010, I was the lead researcher for the Historical Society of the United States District Court for Eastern Pennsylvania, as they put together a history of their court. It was an honor and pleasure to get to work with and for them and the legal community of Philadelphia. The end result of my research was turned into a book, authored by the Honorable Harvey Bartle III, Mortals with Tremendous Responsibilities. Those of you who have read The Mainline know that much of the discussion about church/state and the law are drawn from my work in Philadelphia with the court.
The point of all this isn't that "American Hustle" isn't worth your time and money (I think it is). But rather, that once you've walked, breathed, rubbed shoulders with, indeed, experienced history or an historic event, no cinematic undertaking is ever going to be able to capture what it was really like, no matter how good. In one part of the movie, Christian Bale (playing the part of Irving Rosenfeld--the small time con man who teaches the FBI how to hustle) shows Bradley Cooper (playing the part of Richie Dimaso the FBI agent who busts and flips Bale's character in an earlier scam) a painting at a museum. Rosenfeld tells Dimaso that this beautiful piece of art is a forgery, but that it was done so well no one knows the difference. The message being that a well put together ("from the feet up" as they say in the movie) scam is real because people believe it to be so...that perception is reality. Perhaps that is true on some sort of philosophical level. But I'd argue that once you know the truth, all imitations pale in comparison.
In case you don't know, the movie with an all star cast, is about an FBI investigation into white collar crime during the late 1970s. Dubbed ABSCAM (the FBI had an agent impersonate an Arab sheik -- named Abul and it was a scam, hence ABSCAM), the case moved from looking into forged art, to securities, to political corruption. You can read more about the real life investigation here from the FBI's perspective, as well as here from a recent journalistic attempt to link ABSCAM to the NSA scandal.
As a movie goer, the film was a lot of fun. Very well acted. Nice soundtrack. Well directed. It captured the "vibe" of the late 1970s quite well. You can take a look at the cast and the movie's official website here. Any awards the film generates are well deserved.
As an historian, the movie left me a bit wanting. It mixed fact with fantasy a bit to much for me. Now, this isn't just because they didn't film it in Philadelphia (where some of the story actually took place) or some other "dramatic license" issue with the past. Rather, it is because for three years I got to know some the people who were actually involved in ABSCAM (on the federal side of things), and while the movie got the feel right, the actually story, in some ways, is even more outlandish than what appears on film. From 2007 until 2010, I was the lead researcher for the Historical Society of the United States District Court for Eastern Pennsylvania, as they put together a history of their court. It was an honor and pleasure to get to work with and for them and the legal community of Philadelphia. The end result of my research was turned into a book, authored by the Honorable Harvey Bartle III, Mortals with Tremendous Responsibilities. Those of you who have read The Mainline know that much of the discussion about church/state and the law are drawn from my work in Philadelphia with the court.
The point of all this isn't that "American Hustle" isn't worth your time and money (I think it is). But rather, that once you've walked, breathed, rubbed shoulders with, indeed, experienced history or an historic event, no cinematic undertaking is ever going to be able to capture what it was really like, no matter how good. In one part of the movie, Christian Bale (playing the part of Irving Rosenfeld--the small time con man who teaches the FBI how to hustle) shows Bradley Cooper (playing the part of Richie Dimaso the FBI agent who busts and flips Bale's character in an earlier scam) a painting at a museum. Rosenfeld tells Dimaso that this beautiful piece of art is a forgery, but that it was done so well no one knows the difference. The message being that a well put together ("from the feet up" as they say in the movie) scam is real because people believe it to be so...that perception is reality. Perhaps that is true on some sort of philosophical level. But I'd argue that once you know the truth, all imitations pale in comparison.
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